


Wild as the Wind

by Aksannyi



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 193,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aksannyi/pseuds/Aksannyi
Summary: Shortly after Parsons threatens the team and the three agents resign, an even bigger threat emerges, an elite team of rogue agents hellbent on eliminating Ziva David. Ziva and Tony disappear, and the rest of the team tries to pick up the pieces of their disappearance while attempting to neutralize the threat.Post “Damned if You Do.” AU





	1. No Way Out

_May 2013_

Her apartment was in a state of disarray when she opened the door and let him in, and Tony tried not to let the shock register on his face. Ziva rarely admitted anyone into her space when it was anything less than immaculate. He knew the telltale signs of something amiss, though, and he wondered if Ziva had planned to tell him what was going on before he’d decided to randomly stop by on his way back from meeting one of his buddies nearby.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he followed her to her bedroom, where she’d obviously been making one hell of a mess prior to his arrival, noting a bunch of articles of clothing strewn across her bed. It seemed like she’d been looking for something in her closet and had been haphazardly tossing things onto her bed until she found it, but hadn’t bothered to put anything away. The fact that he was standing in her bedroom, an odd enough occurrence on its own, didn’t even register.

“I am leaving,” she answered simply, without bothering to elaborate. She opened up one of her dresser drawers and began to rifle through it. _Leaving?_ He couldn’t help but wonder about whether she’d have even told him if he hadn’t stopped by when he did.

He stepped forward as he spoke. “I can see that you’ve made a mess, but _leaving?_ Why?”

She stepped back from the dresser, turning to face him for the first time since he’d arrived, handing him a folded up piece of paper. Tony opened it, and several photographs of Ziva as she left the scene of Ilan Bodnar’s untimely death dropped out. The paper merely bore the words, “YOU,” and beneath that, writing in Hebrew which he did not understand, despite his attempts at learning the language. He could speak it well enough, but the alphabet had eluded him thus far.

“What’s this?” he asked, his thumb pointing neatly at the Hebrew writing at the bottom of the page as he turned the sheet around.

“It is Widow. Israeli terrorist cell I’d long suspected to be in bed with Ilan, but I could not prove it. They are one of the main reasons I had warned my father not to trust him.” She paused, waiting for a response, and continued when none came. “They have been responsible for several attacks on Israeli soil, as well as attempts at Israeli allies, such as the United States. So far, they have not been successful, at least not here in the States. My status as daughter of Eli David turned American citizen is likely a large reason they wish to kill me – not to mention the fact that I just took out someone of great importance to them.”

“So you’re running away?”

“You know as well as I do that they will stop at nothing to ensure that I’m dead. I am sure that I have always been a person of interest, but being responsible for Ilan’s death is what set them after me. It does not matter that it was not my intent to kill him, only that I did, when he attacked me. And now that I no longer have either the badge or the protection of an American federal agency, they are out to kill me. I have no choice.” She shrugged lightly and returned to her dresser drawer, as if she’d just told him that she was going for coffee later.

“You didn’t do anything that any one of us wouldn’t have done,” he reminded her, exasperated that she was being so nonchalant about the whole thing. Trust Ziva to make something like a terrorist cell plotting to kill her as non-dramatic as possible.

She looked up at him again, asking, “Does that make it right?”

“Ziva…”

“Tony,” she started to speak, then paused. “You and I both know that it was justified. You and I also know that I could argue self-defense.” She paused again.

“But?” he supplied.

“ _But,”_ she drew in a breath. “I know you don’t put much stock into Gibbs’ rules, but… think about number forty.”

“Is that the one about it looking like someone is out to get you, so they probably are?”

“Exactly.” She turned from him again, and continued to pull clothes from her dresser, tossing them onto her bed. “Tony, they aren’t going to stop. I know who these men are. They are ruthless. They do not care for laws, or justice. They care only for vengeance. They’re not going to give up until I’m dead. Ah! Found it!” She exclaimed, taking out a small satchel, not bothering to explain its contents to her partner. She took another deep breath, then added, “And I have spent more than enough time contemplating death, enough to know now that it is not my time. Help me put these things away?”

Tony cringed at the allusion to her summer spent in Saleem’s camp, and how casually she’d brought it up, despite her earlier aversion to talking about it. Truth be told, he didn’t like to think about how she’d once given up on life, even though he was grateful to hear that she no longer had any intention of letting death find her. 

“So you’re running away?” he asked again, this time more of a statement than a question.

“Do I really have a choice?” She watched as Tony’s expression changed, that expression of determination, and he started to open his mouth as if to speak. “You can’t protect me this time, Tony. As much as you and I both want you to.”

“But–” She cut him off.

“Look at the situation without emotion. If you were not … close, if you did not … _care_ … you would say that there is no way out.” She knew that he thought with his emotions when it came to her, and that, despite everything, he believed that he could always protect her. “Can you honestly say that you – or anyone – can protect me?”

“Ziva,” he started, but stopped. She was stubborn as hell, but she was also right, and he knew it. Maybe if they were still NCIS agents he’d be able to protect her, but their resignation had the unintended consequence of leaving Ziva wide open as a target. He couldn’t exactly call in a protection detail. Ziva took the t-shirt Tony held out to her and returned it to her dresser, a knowing look in her eye, and Tony finally came to the realization that she was truly in danger.

“Where will you go?” He picked up another article of clothing, marveling at how odd the situation was, folding clothes and putting them away like it was nothing, when Ziva was planning what appeared to be an elaborate escape. She talked of these things like she was making small talk over coffee and brunch.

“You know I can’t tell you that. Just by knowing, it puts you in danger.”

“I’m not going to let you leave me if I don’t know where you are. So I can at least check on you and make sure you’re okay.” She caught his eyes then, biting her lip when she saw the pain that registered on his features. She also knew that he would do anything to save her, even if it hurt him terribly. He had always been willing to sacrifice for her, even if it meant his own life.

“Tony.” Her voice gave off a warning tone, which he ignored.

“No,” he said firmly. He repeated it, quieter, “No. I already went through that hell four years ago. I _have_ to know where you are.”

“You would be the first person they would ask. They’re not stupid, they will get at you first.” It wasn't like she didn't want him to be in on it, but even taking the time to have this conversation between them was setting up a huge risk.

“You don’t trust me,” his accusation rang out, and Ziva cringed.

“I do trust you, you know that,” she spat angrily. “What I don’t trust is that these men won’t torture you, won’t harm you, and won’t _kill_ you just to try to get to me.”

“Don’t you think they’d do it even if I _didn’t_ know?”

She stopped short at his words. She hadn’t considered that he might not have information to give but they’d still harm him regardless. “You didn’t think of that, did you?” He accused. She cursed inwardly, biting her lip to keep from speaking the word out loud.

“I did not,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. She _should_ have thought of that though. _Damn it._

“So either way, you leave, I’m screwed.” He paused, walking toward her and grabbing her arms in his hands. “On top of the fact that I don’t know what on earth I would do without knowing you were safe, or … what I would do without you _here_ ,” he admitted, without stopping to think about the ramifications of his words.

“Tony,” she said softly, her words another stunned warning – a warning not to go there. Not now. And there it was – another thing she hadn’t considered – how much she would miss him, too. She had to admit, even now, that she’d merely put the thought out of her mind whenever it had tried to wedge its way in since the moment she’d gotten the photos and decided to leave. This was no time to get emotional over an attachment she’d always sworn she’d never make.

“You can run away, Ziva. You’re right, it’s the only way, going into hiding. I just don’t know how I will live knowing that you’re somewhere, _anywhere,_ on this planet, and I won’t be able to ever contact or see you again.” His honesty surprised her, and she was unable to stop her mouth from falling open just slightly as she considered what he’d just said. Admitted, actually.

 _I feel that way, too_ , she thought to herself, but couldn’t voice it, not now. Not when everything was up in the air and the fact was, she might never be able to contact him again, not as long as Widow was after her. “I thought I could run away. I did not consider that with me out of the picture, you would become their next target. How could I leave you to die on my behalf?” She sighed lightly, shaking her head sadly. “I cannot let you do that again.”

“Ziva,” he began, but didn’t know what to say. There she was again, bringing up Somalia, and there she was again, trying to convince him that he shouldn’t be so willing to give up his life for her, should the need arise. “You need to stop trying to keep me from helping you. Let me help. Please.”

“You know, I always thought I would be able to leave any place behind with no strings attached,” she spoke, looking at him earnestly, choosing to be open. “But it is not that simple.”

“You’re not that person anymore,” he whispered gently. “You formed attachments. You care. It’s okay to admit that, you know.”

She chuckled inwardly, heaving a sigh of resignation. “I _do_ care. More than I ever thought I could.” A tear she hadn’t even felt welling up rolled down her cheek, and Tony pulled her to him, wrapping himself around her, holding her and silently promising her that he would never let her go. They’d figure something out, something else.

They stood together for several minutes, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and his around her back, his hand providing reassuring strokes as she melted into his arms, leaning on him for the comfort she’d almost managed to convince herself she wouldn’t need.

“So now what?” he asked, not bothering to pull away. She would _stay_ , wouldn’t she? They’d figure something else out, because they always had before. They could go to Director Vance and ask for his assistance, or find out where Gibbs went. Something. Anything. As long as she didn’t leave.

She stilled in his arms for a moment, before pulling away and wiping her tears with the back of her hand before placing it gently to his chest, determined. “Come with me.”

That was not what he’d been expecting to hear. _“What?”_

“You said it yourself. They will stop at nothing, torture you, they will not be able to pursue me so they will pursue you. They surely know how important you are to me. I cannot leave knowing that by doing so, I will have sentenced you to death.”

“So don’t leave then,” he said, exasperatedly. There was no response, only the quick turn of her head and a glare. How could he just leave? Just walk away from DC, from everything he’d ever known? What if they could have gotten their jobs back? How could he just leave it all behind, go on the run with Ziva and just forsake everything? His heart began racing at the thought of giving everything up. _Everything._

But how could he let her go alone, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect her? Never knowing if she was okay, or even alive? She wouldn’t stay, that much was clear from the determination in her eyes, and if she wouldn’t stay here and let him try to find another way to help her, then he was going to have to follow her. He’d done it before, and he’d always known that if he had to, he’d do it again. “Damn your stubbornness,” he muttered, but he’d made up his mind.

“My stubbornness is going to save your ass,” she responded shortly. “Both of our asses. Now are you going to come, or not?”

He followed her to the ends of the earth once already, and at least this time, he’d be there with her the whole time to make sure she was _safe._ He couldn’t let her walk alone, even knowing that she was perfectly capable of caring for herself, even knowing that she didn’t _need_ his help. He couldn’t live with himself if he let her walk away without at least trying to protect her, and he suspected that she’d maintain her own peace of mind if she knew that he would be safe, as well.

“I’ll come. What do we have to do?”


	2. Disappearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair prepares for and executes their getaway.

 

 _Late May 2013_  

Tony took one long look around his apartment before picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. His wallet and cell phone sat on his bedside table, where they’d likely stay until the remaining members of Team Gibbs realized that he and Ziva were missing.

These few days had gone by a lot faster than he’d expected them to. They very well could have left sooner, but Ziva was certain there was minimal threat at the moment, as a discreet but confidential contact assured her that none of Widow were in the country. Tony had wondered about Ziva’s contact, but she assured him that it wasn’t unusual for her to randomly reach out for information, so no one would suspect anything about her having reached out. The photographs, they’d determined, had probably been taken by a hired hand, someone who had most likely been contacted anonymously and who would probably turn up dead in a few days with no connection to either of them.  

They would not be around for the photographer to surface.

Tony reached up to scratch his ear, startling himself at the facial hair he’d amassed. He hadn’t shaven since the day they’d resigned from NCIS, and Ziva had instructed him to let his facial hair continue to grow, as it would help to disguise him. He grabbed a ball cap and put it on.

The plan was risky, he knew, but if anyone could successfully disappear – and bring him along – it was Ziva. She’d given him strict instructions, and he was determined to follow. This was no time to argue with her, not when the stakes were this high.

He took one final glance around the apartment, his eyes finally settling on the empty table, where just a few days ago, Kate had sat in her fishbowl, watching him almost accusingly. He’d given Kate to one of the neighbor kids who promised to take care of her. He told the kid that he was traveling too much for his job and he wasn’t home enough to feed her.

Honestly, it wasn’t even a lie.

With a sigh, he pulled the key to his apartment off of his key ring and set the rest of his keys down on the table. None of his keys would be going with him. He stepped outside the door and locked it, then crouched down and shoved the key under the door. He made his way to the stairs quickly, shutting the door behind him, lest he be seen by someone on his way out. He had to be sure he would not be noticed, that was crucial. His building was generally low on traffic, but he couldn’t take the chance.

The street was quiet when he made his way out the door. It was just a short walk to the gym that he would go into, and then later hail a cab from.

He was careful to walk quickly but not so quickly as to arouse suspicion. Ziva told him about walking at just the right pace, and he’d never been so conscious of his steps before. Did he look like he was _thinking_ about walking? He had no idea. Once he rounded the corner, though, he felt a lot more comfortable. The further he got from his apartment, the less likely it was that anyone would recognize him, and although he wasn’t looking around and checking for surveillance, he didn’t sense anyone’s eyes on him.

The gym was one of those 24 hour places, one that Ziva had once had a membership to. She wouldn’t be here tonight, he knew, but she’d told him that there were still plenty of people coming and going at this hour. As if on cue, a patron came by carrying a huge duffel bag, swiping his card and opening the door, and Tony grabbed the door behind the younger man, sliding inside. He hadn’t been too concerned about being unable to get into the gym. Security at this place was pretty lax – they had a swipe pad for membership cards, but no cameras and no sign-in sheet, both of which they’d counted on for discretion. He had never been inside, so he would not be recognized. Ziva had chosen this place well. Everyone was too absorbed with what they were doing to pay him even the slightest bit of attention. He was just some random guy, here to run a few miles on a treadmill.

Tony made his way to the locker room and changed into some workout clothes. He chose a treadmill at the far corner of the room, facing a television that was tuned to ZNN, and started a light jog. He would run for about forty-five minutes, call a cab, and then take a shower while he waited for the cab to arrive. He’d have to bring his dirty clothes with him, but eventually he’d be able to wash them.

He hoped, anyway. He honestly had no idea where they were going, outside the flight he was taking tonight. He tried not to think too hard on it, however, because Ziva had planned out everything already, and his job was to simply follow her lead. Like this trip to the gym, a gym he had never paid a single shred of attention to until yesterday, but was now instrumental to his escape from the country. The gym was just a vehicle through which he could be picked up, as neither of them could take their cars to the airport. Ziva was apparently taking mass transit, opting to hide in plain sight as she made her way to the airport tonight. Her flight would be taking off soon, according to the time stamp on the bottom corner of the TV screen.

Tony tried not to let his anxiety show as he thought about how risky this whole thing was. Just because Ziva’s contact was pretty sure that not one known member of Widow was in the States, that didn’t mean that someone else acting on their behalf wasn’t, or that the contact even had correct intel. Any number of things could happen between now and when _both_ of them landed, safely and unrecognized, in South America. They were operating under a lot of risks, and Tony was reasonably sure that the uncertainty of their future was only beginning.

* * *

Seated at the gate area of her flight at Dulles, Ziva was also being as inconspicuous as possible. She was fairly sure that none of Widow were in the States, but she wasn’t about to stop being cautious. Contacts were not always reliable. She looked at the clock on the wall of the airport, noting that Tony was probably just finishing up his run, if he was following closely to the schedule she had laid out for him and made him memorize.

She would be taking an earlier flight than he was, and from a different airport. They couldn’t risk being seen together, even if they sat separately. They were too close to each other, too likely to give away that they knew each other just by their mannerisms. “Our glances,” she had argued, “will give us away.” They could not be seen together until they were out of the country. She’d come to the airport a couple days ago in order to purchase her ticket. It was a fairly late flight, and it had been easy to get a seat on the plane. Her flight didn’t look full, and she assumed that the later flight out of Reagan would also have plenty of seats available.

She breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that Tony would also be able to leave the country tonight. The longer she had to wait for him to arrive, the more anxious she would become.

Her new passport bore the name Ana Navarro, and she’d spent some time tanning and dyed her hair black, carefully disposing of all the evidence of the hair dye. She wanted to look different, and so she donned a pair of reading glasses for good measure. She spoke perfect Spanish and used accented English, perfect for the flight into South America where they would land – separately – before making the trek into the rainforest. They would venture deep into the unexplored wilderness, where they would make their home and hide from the terrorists who wanted her dead. It was such a normal thing for her, being chased by killers, that she didn’t even flinch to think of it, which was a good thing when surrounded by other passengers. She didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to herself.

Ana Navarro had no reason to be overly suspicious of her surroundings, so Ziva engaged in the airport pastime of people-watching. Most of the people were absorbed in their phones, but she obviously hadn’t brought hers with her. Instead, she’d purchased a magazine at a kiosk, and pretended to read while checking out the other people around her. She sat in the corner of the waiting area, surveying the entire room for anything suspicious. Securing the corner had been a bonus, as she wouldn’t have to turn and look behind her at any point while she waited to board.

None of the people in the terminal seemed familiar to her, and no one seemed to be even the slightest bit interested in her. She watched as the attendant at the desk grabbed the loudspeaker, announcing that boarding would begin for the first group of passengers, those who were flying first class, followed by those seated at the rear of the plane. She would be seated toward the middle, on the aisle seat. Just another passenger heading home after a vacation to the United States. The Chilean passport had been a nice touch, one she was especially proud of making, a skill that Tony hadn’t known she’d possessed.

She wondered just _how_ he had always thought she’d gone undercover all those years when she was Mossad, but there was no use dwelling on it now. She and Tony had left their actual passports in their apartments, as they would not be using their own identities to travel. Much too risky an endeavor, and flight records were not secure. If they’d used their actual names, Widow would be waiting for them as soon as they arrived.  

She’d wiped her hard drive clean after creating the passports in order to ensure that they could not be traced, a trick that she’d learned from McGee. He had taught her how to permanently erase all traces of what was once on her computer a few years ago. Innocent McGee had no idea then that he would eventually be helping her disappear, taking Tony with her. She almost felt bad about using a skill he taught her in order to disappear without telling him, but he had to have known that such a skill would prove valuable to her, otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to learn it.

And it _had_ proven to be a useful skill. She’d erased Tony’s computer as well, the last time she’d been at his apartment. Their phones were left untouched – they’d called each other only a few times, and refrained from texting at all. Texts could be retrieved. The phone calls between them were not abnormal. Reasonably, they would call each other as often as a few times a day. The lack of text messaging would be seen as strange, but they couldn’t risk that anything said over text message could be used to track them. Both apartments had been swept for bugs, and found surprisingly clear of them, but even so, they’d done their planning together at a local carnival that had been in town, where no one had paid them any mind. It was like being undercover again, walking through the midway with their heads close together and their hands intertwined, quietly talking through their plans and looking to anyone who didn’t know any better like they were a couple out on a date. For a brief moment in time, she’d almost convinced herself that their date was _real_ , but she’d pushed the thought out of her mind, reminding herself that they could not afford any distractions. No distractions despite the way her hand had tingled at the contact between them, reminding her of the way she’d felt that evening they’d held hands in Tony’s car.

They’d both left money in their bank accounts. It was of absolutely no surprise to Tony that Ziva had a sizeable cash stash that they would use to travel, one portion of which he’d seen her looking for when he’d come to her apartment the other night. They’d made nothing but the usual transactions, nothing to indicate that they were doing anything abnormal. Both of them continued to pay their regular bills, which would come out, as scheduled, every month. Canceling utilities or phone charges would arouse suspicion, and they needed none of it. Going to the bank was too big a risk, as they didn’t want to be seen on bank security cameras. _“They can pull up the cameras, Tony,”_ she’d said, _“and they won’t be able to see where we are going, but we do not want them to notice anything.”_ Ziva had had plenty of cash for the both of them, money she’d saved well for this exact scenario. Well, not this _exact_ scenario, she mused, as she hadn’t ever planned on taking someone along _with_ her when she disappeared, but she still had saved plenty of money. Her father was many things, but he had taught her well.

Her own words of warning rang back in her ears. The plane ticket had been expensive, especially at the last minute, but where they were going, they wouldn’t need a lot of money – certainly not American money. She would make a currency exchange when she landed, when everyone else from the flight would be doing the same thing. She would go almost entirely unnoticed, and she would be unrecognizable. Two of the features people always noticed when you showed them a picture of someone are skin tone and hairstyle. She’d changed both, and for good measure, her glasses were the kind that auto-tinted in bright light to hide her eyes.

She heard the attendant calling her boarding group now, and picked up her large backpack, the only bag she’d brought with her. Most would assume that it held clothing and toiletries, and they would be mistaken. She’d packed a few supplies, but most of what she would purchase she would handle when she arrived, at one of the local markets. There, she would purchase additional bags that they could use to carry more things, weapons, tools, fabrics – they were not bringing any clothes – food, water, and several other things. She had a running list of things she would need, but made sure to bring a few small items.

Ziva had done her research, and determined which vegetables would be the most likely to grow in the tropical rainforest. She’d gone to a Walmart garden center and picked up a bunch of packages of seeds, talking excitedly with the clerk about having purchased her new house and how she couldn’t wait to start her own vegetable garden. She’d been Ana Navarro that night, and not Ziva David.

Sometimes, idle chatter would make you extremely forgettable to the average person, especially one who sees hundreds of customers a day. Even if she had been under surveillance, no one would have thought twice about a trip to Walmart. She was proud of the farm idea, though. Vegetables would supplement a diet of hunted and fished foods, and they would produce seeds that she could use to replant them and grow more. So she hadn’t _technically_ been lying to the clerk, she supposed. They _were_ about to move to a new home, and she _was_ going to have a vegetable garden.

Ziva handed over her boarding pass and thanked the attendant in Spanish, making her way down the tunnel and onto the plane. She would feel a lot safer once the plane took off, yes, but even better when she was finally able to see Tony again, to ensure that he had made it out of the country, too.

Again, she thought about how she never would have expected that she would disappear _with_ someone, but she found herself feeling glad that Tony was going to be with her. She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t as strong as she once had been, at least not emotionally. Physically, she could still take care of herself, but her father used to argue that her inability to keep people – Tony especially – at bay was a weakness, and a liability.

What her father hadn’t seemed to realize was that she and Tony moved practically as one in the field, and together, they were nearly unstoppable. They were safer together.

She stowed her bag and sat down in her seat, and let a smile of relief spread across her face as she thought about getting away, _really_ getting away, and being safe. The rest of the team would not be in danger, she was certain of that. Ziva David was the target, and starting right now, Ziva David basically ceased to exist. She’d have a layover before finally making it into Brazil, but leaving DC was the first hurdle.

She buckled her seatbelt.

* * *

Tony had showered and changed after his workout, and decided to wait outside for his cab. It wouldn’t be all that unusual to stand outside and wait for the cab, and in the darkness of the late evening, it would be harder for people to really see him and recognize him. Still, he looked down toward the ground for the most part, only glancing up when cars drove by.

It had been about forty minutes since he had made the call, and the dispatcher said it would be about a half an hour. It was just as well, after all; he had a bit of time to kill before the flight he planned on taking. The cab finally rounded the corner and pulled to the side of the road, and Tony slid into the back seat, requesting to be taken to Reagan National.

The cab driver didn’t seem to want to make conversation and Tony was perfectly okay with that. He’d put his ball cap back on, along with a pair of reading glasses he’d never let anyone know he owned - except Ziva, who had insisted that he wear them for the trip – and he’d kept his scruffy beard.

Facial hair was an identifying feature, and if anyone asked this cab driver, he never picked up anyone from Tony’s building, which was the true beauty of Ziva’s gym idea. They obviously couldn’t drive to the airport. Their cars in the lot would alert anyone who cared to look that they’d boarded a plane and left the country. So they took other modes of transport, separately and from locations unrelated to their homes as an added layer of security. Ziva had really thought through every possible angle when it came to getting out unnoticed. And in the end, the cab driver might remember a guy with a beard from Dante’s Gym, but not clean-shaven Anthony DiNozzo from Lakewood Place Apartment Homes.

He wasn’t Anthony for this trip, though, he was William Morse. Bill Morse, Tony had decided, was an ancient history buff, and he was flying into Brazil and later traveling into Peru to check out the Incan ruins. He needed some sort of story, he figured, just in case someone decided to talk to him. It’s not like Brazil was _that_ a common destination for Americans to visit. Ziva had it easy, she had a Chilean passport and fluent Spanish. It wouldn’t seem nearly as strange for her.

It didn’t matter, he supposed, just as long as they got out of the country without suspicion. He’d seen Ziva this morning, only briefly. She’d stopped by to wipe his computer and “take a shower,” saying that hers was not functioning and that her building maintenance was working on it, just in case there was someone listening in to their conversations. They’d finalized their plans with the shower running in the bathroom, talking in low enough voices that the water would drown any sounds out. Even though they hadn’t picked up any bugs, they were ever vigilant.

It wasn’t a terribly long drive to the airport in the late night traffic, and Tony paid the cabbie, muttering, “Keep the change,” gruffly before grabbing his bag and sliding out of the door. The cab driver pulled away from the curb and drove off, and without a backwards glance, Tony made his way inside the airport, looking for the window where he would purchase his ticket.

He was glad that Ziva had purchased her ticket two days ago. Even though they were leaving from two separate airports and at two different times, it might still seem odd to someone that two different, seemingly unrelated people would pay cash for a flight to the same destination. Cash really couldn’t be helped, however, as they couldn’t very well have booked their flights online using either of their credit cards. They had no idea if the airports around here communicated with each other, but all it took was one ticket counter person to say something to another, and they’d be noticed. A two-day gap probably wasn’t long enough for it to be easily forgotten, but that was the best they could do, given their urgency to leave the country. Tony was surprised that there was a line for the ticket counter, but it was Saturday night, after all, and a lot of people traveled on weekends.

When it was his turn to purchase his ticket, he handed over his passport. Ziva was apparently an expert at making fake identifications, and the ticket clerk, a bored-looking middle aged man, handed it back to him without a word.

Tony paid for his ticket, noting that the guy didn’t say anything about his cash payment, and made his way to security. He didn’t have quite as much time as he’d thought he would have, but it was just as well, less time for him to really think about how crazy this whole thing actually was.

Not only the fact that he was running away from DC, really the only place he’d ever considered home, but the fact that he was running with _Ziva._ Crazy.

The security line was pretty short, and he put his bag down on the conveyor belt, then removed his shoes and belt. He had no other accessories with him, not even a watch. Ziva had told him absolutely no electronics, nothing with so much as a chip or even a magnetic strip. Technology was evolving daily, and she didn’t want anything that could conceivably be traced anywhere near them.

He felt kind of naked without his phone, weapon, and knife, if he was being honest, but without their federal agent status, weapons were out of the question. Not to mention all the attention they would bring to themselves at the airport by being armed. Better to blend in than to stand out, at least on this occasion.

Besides, once they went off-grid, they wouldn’t want to make it easier for people to find them by shooting at things, and they could always just buy more knives once they got there. In fact, he was pretty sure Ziva was going to handle that and any other weaponry while his flight was still up in the air.

She was nothing if not thorough, especially when it came to weapons.

He slipped his shoes back on and picked his backpack up. It was pretty light, at Ziva’s instructions. It made sense to him that they would buy most of their supplies there before they set out for the wilderness. Tony had some survival skills, but they were nothing compared to his ninja’s. He was sure that as soon as they met up, she’d take his bag and stuff it full of things that he would carry for as long as necessary. _Enjoy the light backpack now,_ he warned himself. Ziva was a master of packing, and he was reasonably certain that there would be no pocket left empty when they finally ventured out. The thing would probably end up weighing about as much as Ziva did.

The gate was pretty far away from the security checkpoint, and his flight was already boarding when he got there. He didn’t mind being rushed to get on the plane, but he did use the fact that everyone else was preoccupied gathering their belongings and heading toward the doorway to gather some quick intel. Ziva had shown him some old photographs of some of the men he should look for, but he noticed no one matching their description. As of this morning, they were not in the country, but that could have easily changed.

Technically, _he_ wasn’t their target, _she_ was. And he assumed she got out of the country safely, since everything at the airport seemed to be running smoothly. If there had been some sort of incident, there would be LEOs and security everywhere, but there wasn’t, not to mention nothing of note on ZNN during his run. Even if there had been a minor incident at Dulles, security here at Reagan would have tightened up, and everything about the airport seemed to be blessedly normal. Ziva was probably safe. Granted, if Widow were secretly in the country, they very well may have grabbed her silently, without anyone else so much as noticing them. There was no way to know that she was safe, and getting on this plane right now was an incredible leap of faith, considering she was the one with all of the cash. _I still remember McGee’s number though,_ he reminded himself. If anything, he could call collect, pay McGee back, and run home before turning the universe upside down to find her. Again.

He really hoped it would not come to that, and that she was currently in the air somewhere, safely away from DC and the imminent threat against her.

As Tony handed over his boarding pass and walked swiftly onto the plane, he said a silent prayer to any deity that was listening that she would be safe. Seeing that there was nothing crazy on the news and no heightened airport security in the area helped, but he wasn’t at Dulles like she’d been. He trusted that she was safe, he felt it in his gut, but he wouldn’t be entirely convinced until he saw her with his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they reunite in Brazil? Look for Chapter 3 on Tuesday, February 7.


	3. Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trek begins.

_May 2013_

The market that Ziva selected as their rendezvous point was a place she’d been marginally familiar with, which helped her to draw a small map and indicate where she and Tony should meet up once they were both done with their respective flights. Tony had argued with her, telling her to use Google Maps, but she hadn’t felt comfortable doing anything to give away their location, even on a computer that would be wiped free of absolutely every trace of her history. No chances. She’d figured internet history was probably stored somewhere other than her own drive, and even if it wasn’t, she’d been sure an internet provider had ways of finding websites someone had visited. Paper maps would be safer. She had sounded paranoid, but Tony couldn’t exactly blame her for it, given the circumstances.

So far, she was certain she had not aroused any suspicion and she just looked like a regular citizen out for a day at the market. This was not a small town where she would stand out immediately as an outsider, but it wasn’t a huge city, either. It had taken her about fifty-five minutes by transit to get to the town after having left the airport, and Ziva had instructed Tony on how to get here, as well. There were always lots of travelers coming in and out, and so he would not be viewed as unusual.

The market was busy, which was rather typical for a Sunday afternoon. She’d spent her time milling around the various stalls, making purchases and bargaining with the merchants for various goods. She’d been able to obtain several knives, tools, and a crossbow, and still had plenty of money for other things.

 _Can’t beat the price on some of these items_ , she thought absently as she thumbed through some cotton shirts. The handwoven fabrics here were light and airy, perfect for the unforgiving climate that they would soon have to endure. She asked an elderly woman for the time, feeling anxious about Tony’s impending arrival.

 _I hope he made it here without an issue,_ she thought, biting her lip. She should have let him take the first flight so she wouldn’t have to worry about him. She smirked absently, knowing that he would have insisted she leave first anyway.

The owner of the stall she was at approached her, asking her in rapid-fire Portuguese if she found everything to her liking. She nodded, asking how much the lot of her selections would be. Portuguese was not one of her languages, but she was able to understand the gist of what he was saying, and she spoke back to him in slow Spanish. The similarities between the languages meant that their communication was only slightly limited, but still manageable. They haggled for a few minutes, until they came across a price they both agreed on, though to be fair, Ziva would have paid full price for everything as it was well worth the cost. She knew that it was customary to bargain with these stall keepers.

Ziva handed the money to the merchant, thanking him for his assistance. She had a huge handful of items in her hands now, and nowhere to put them, as her bag was quite full with everything she’d purchased today. Tony would be here soon though, and she’d throw a bunch of the stuff in his backpack. The backpacks would keep their hands free. Ziva would carry the crossbow, ready for anyone or anything that wanted to threaten them.

She was pretty sure she was just about done gathering items for their trek into the wilderness. She began to scan the crowd, hoping to passers-by that she just appeared to be looking for the next stall from which she might purchase something. She cupped her hand over her eyes, peering into the distance. Still no sign of Tony, and she didn’t want to loiter, so she pretended to browse, never lingering too long.

Slowly, she was making her way toward one end of the marketplace, in the direction of the building she’d told Tony to meet her near, a small café where she could wait for him inconspicuously. She sat down with her purchases and ordered a drink, keeping her eyes trained on the crowd. Again, she relied on the appearance of people-watching, even though she was watching specifically for one person. She’d probably have no difficulties recognizing him even with his beard; she knew his mannerisms too well at this point, and so she leaned against the chair of the outdoor café near the outskirts of the busy market and waited, feigning interest in the skin around her fingernails and glancing up every so often.

 _Finally_ she could see him emerge from the crowds, his backpack slung haphazardly across one shoulder. He caught her eye and she could see him start to grin before stopping himself, relief splashing across his face. He crossed the street toward her, taking in the sight of the stuff she’d amassed, most of which lay at her feet as she sipped her drink. Before gathering these things up, Ziva left a few coins on the table in order to tip the kind young girl who had brought her tea, and she walked away from the café and into a slightly more remote part of the town, where there were fewer people who would notice them. Tony followed.

“What’s all this?” he asked as he made his way closer to her.

“Things we will need,” she responded, her Spanish accent never faltering. She wouldn’t drop character until they were well out of sight of other humans, even though the threat here was probably very low. She was certain that no one even knew they’d left the country yet, and she was hoping it would stay that way at least for a few days. Being unemployed had its perks.

“I see why you asked me to pack light,” he murmured quietly. There weren’t many people around, but no one needed to overhear their conversations. Arousing any sort of suspicion was the last thing they needed.

“Yes, put all of this,” she motioned to the folded linens in her hand, “in your backpack.” She’d purchased at least two dozen cotton articles of clothing for the both of them, as well as plenty of fabric for future usage. Tony stuffed the items in his bag.

“There’s more room if you need me to carry more,” he said, and wordlessly, she shoved more items at him. She’d really gotten a ton of stuff, he realized, from linens to tools, weapons (of course), and some food items. Not too many food items, he noticed, but he’d already assumed that they would be hunting for most of their food anyway.

“Good, put all of these bottles in there,” she said, handing him a tote bag full of bottled water. There had to be at least two dozen bottles, maybe more, just in this bag. He wondered how much more water she’d stowed elsewhere. She glanced around the area to ensure that no one nearby was listening to them, but there was no one in this particular little alleyway at the moment. Even so, she and Tony were speaking quietly. He stuffed the bottles into his bag, surprised at how much of it there was.

His eyes widened. “We will need it,” she added. “We do not know when we will find a suitable water source and we will not be stopping permanently until I am certain we will not be found by regular tourists out for some exploration.”

Tony nodded, zipping up his bag and lifting it back up to his shoulders. The bottles added a considerable amount of weight to it, but with each day, it would get lighter since they would be drinking it. He hoped his back would handle it.

“This is going to be dangerous, isn’t it?” he asked unnecessarily. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

“If you wish to turn back, this is your chance,” she offered, “and I will go into hiding somewhere else. After all, this is not your fight.” She tried to keep her voice even, not allowing the slight rush of fear surface. He wouldn’t leave _now,_ would he? After they’d come all this way?

“It  _is_ my fight, and I’m not going to leave you alone on this,” he countered.

“It is _not_ your fight, but I am not going to continue to argue with you,” she sighed, heaving her bag off the ground and onto her shoulders. Like Tony’s bag, hers was loaded with plenty of water, and he watched as she buckled a belt with two canteens strapped to it. For good measure, he supposed. She handed him a pouch with a long strap, about a foot in length. He assumed she wanted him to carry it, and he strapped it across his chest.

Finally, she handed him a knife, sheathed neatly in a leather holster – well, it looked like a holster, he surmised – and he watched with great interest as she bent down and picked up a crossbow that had been leaning across the building. How had he not seen that?

“A crossbow?”

“Well it would be stupid for us to have a gun, the sound of a gunshot will carry for miles, and–”

“And we don’t want to attract unnecessary attention,” he supplied, echoing her mantra over the past several days.

“Yes, you are finally catching on,” she teased, a faint smile turning the corners of her mouth.

“And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” he joked.

“Let’s get going. I would like for us to make some headway by nightfall.” She began walking down the alleyway and away from the market, down a narrow street. There were several small houses along this road, most of which appeared empty, but it was midday and people did not need lights on, so they couldn’t be sure. Even if people were around, they probably just looked like a couple of hunters. He hoped that hunting parties weren’t that unusual, but Ziva knew this area and if she was leading him like this, then she probably knew what she was doing.

Tony followed behind her, noting that it was not long before the houses began to thin out, and a large grass field loomed before them. He could make out the edge of the tree line from where they walked, and he assumed that line of trees was their destination.

Ziva turned quickly, walking backwards a few paces to ask him, “Ready?” He nodded, knowing that she was really just checking to see if anyone was watching them. The town appeared deserted, but he guessed it was just that most – if not all – of the residents were at the market and would hardly notice two people walking toward the forest. She turned around, and they began walking swiftly, so much so that he was out of breath quickly, but he dared not ask Ziva to slow down. Even if hunters were regularly coming through here, he didn’t suppose Ziva wanted the two of them to be seen. The quicker they got there, the better.

The grass was high and unruly the further they walked, and he was suddenly glad Ziva had told him to wear pants, despite the temperature. With the tall grass making their trek slower, it took them what he supposed was nearly an hour to reach the edge of the rainforest, and Tony was hot and sweating from the exertion. When he turned around to glance behind him, he noted that the town was no longer visible. How far had they traveled already? The ground had sloped slightly, but he didn’t think that would render the town invisible so soon. His back was killing him. “Ziva,” he panted, and she slowed slightly, but did not stop, looking back toward him with raised eyebrows.

“I need to stop,” he begged, not even caring that she rolled her eyes at him.

“We have just gotten started, Tony,” she sighed out, exasperated. “And we need to keep going so that we will be sure we won’t be seen.”

“My back-” he started, but was interrupted.

“Will hurt much less than your face if you do not _stop complaining,”_ she threatened, getting agitated, but slowed again, softening. “I am tired and hurting, too, but we mustn’t stop yet.” She reached for her canteen, holding it out to him. “Drink.”

He took it gratefully, taking two large gulps of the liquid and then wiping his face with the back of his fist. He handed the canteen back to her, then took his shirt and lifted it to his face, wiping the sweat off his brow. They’d reached the shade, and he took the ballcap off, shoving it in his pocket.

“You wouldn’t really hurt my face, would you?” he asked, puckering his lips and trying to do his best impersonation of a puppy dog face.

She turned her head again, catching his facial expression before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Facing forward again, she kept moving, smiling inwardly at the goofball behind her. Truth be told, her back was also killing her, but they weren’t far enough away from the tree line to stop and rest, and complaining would do absolutely no good.

She peered up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. They would probably have a few more hours before they needed to camp for the night. Sleeping on the ground wouldn’t help either of their backs, but setting up anything more than the small tent that Tony was carrying would be too time consuming until they reached a place they could call “home.”

Ziva still wasn’t sure if there would be such a place for quite a while. She expected that they’d be hiking for days, possibly weeks until they were in a remote enough location with a suitable water source nearby. She knew it would rain here often – they didn’t call it the rainforest for no reason – but they would need at least a small stream. She wouldn’t tell Tony, but she was worried about running out of water before that happened. There were water collection techniques they could employ, but ideally, they wanted to find some sort of a stream at worst, a waterfall or a natural spring at best. They’d probably have to filter the water regardless of where they found it, and that, too, was one of the skills she’d learned when she was younger.

She could still hear him panting behind her as she kept up a fairly rigorous pace. Tony wasn’t complaining anymore, though she knew he was still in a lot of pain, because her own shoulders were crying in protest. She stopped momentarily, turning around to face him.

“We need to look for a place where we can set up camp for the night,” she began, “a place where there is a lot of tree cover and preferably some thick brush. We do not want anyone – or _thing_ – to stumble upon us.”

He sighed heavily, sweat dripping from his brow. He was still panting, trying to catch his breath. “And you need to drink water, Tony. If you become dehydrated it will kill you. Long before I can,” she added. She took her bag off of her shoulders and set it down.

Rather than take his own backpack off, because he knew if he did then he would have trouble putting it back on, he reached for Ziva’s backpack and pulled a bottle of water out of her pack. He drank it swiftly, tossing the bottle on the ground. Ziva glared at him, and bent down to pick it back up.

“We are not leaving bottles on the ground, Tony!” she said angrily. Was he an idiot? Did he _want_ people to find them? “We should not leave any sort of trail. And we may need those.”

“Sorry,” he breathed. He was starting to feel better already, but he wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Ziva got so angry with him for complaining, and he loved getting that rise out of her. Which was exactly why he’d dropped the bottle. That, and to watch her bend over in front of him. She was going to be the only eye candy he would get for … well, a long time, and he may as well enjoy it. _Pig,_ he thought to himself, feeling instantly guilty for ogling her. He resolved to act like less of a Neanderthal. If he was lucky, he and Ziva would ... 

He let his thoughts trail away. He wanted very much to get closer to Ziva in a way that would allow him to openly admire her, but their situation was precarious. To start something between them would be a distraction neither of them really needed, not while ruthless terrorists were after them. But he longed for it sometimes. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow again. It was  _hot._

“Where are we going?” he asked finally.

“I … don’t know,” she answered. “We will likely be very, _very_ lost before we come to a place we can settle, and I believe it will be better that way.”

“But you have a compass,” he countered, pointing at the small metal object that was situated on a string around her neck, noting for the first time that she’d left her Star of David necklace at home. She really _didn’t_ want to stand out if she had taken that off. He pretended not to notice, but it bothered him, seeing her without it, as though she was missing an essential piece of her armor. _If it bothers me, it must be driving her nuts,_ he realized.

“Only so we do not walk in circles. I have no earthly idea where it will lead us, but at least we can be assured that we will not turn around and go back the same way we have already come.”

“Going in a straight line means we’ll be deeper into the forest, which means less chance of being found,” he supplied, the answer dawning on him. Ziva was nothing if not thorough. She was getting antsy, though, and so he reached down to pick up her bag to help her put it back on her shoulders. It weighed a _ton._

“Your bag is so much heavier than mine. Why is your bag so much heavier than mine?” he asked incredulously.

She shrugged, answering, “I know that you have back problems. And besides, I am used to this. So I made sure your bag would be lighter.”

“You sure do know how to make me feel like a man,” he muttered as they resumed walking, but all his bravado aside, he was glad to concede weakness to his partner on this one. She’d always been the tougher one, and her fierce independence had more than saved his ass a few times. Not that he wouldn’t return the favor, if the opportunity ever arose.

His back was screaming at him by the time Ziva stopped again, and she pointed out a potential camping spot for the night. The sun was starting to go down, the heat of the day finally starting to dissipate, but they knew they’d have to get settled in quickly before it got too dark.

Ziva took the pouch from Tony, taking the parts of the tent out, and started to set it up. He was surprised at how large it actually was, considering how small the pouch that carried it was. Trust Ziva to find something so lightweight and efficient. “We’re not going to live in that thing all the time, are we?” he asked. It would be fine for a little while, but he wasn’t sure if he could live off the grid with Ziva in something that tiny indefinitely.

“No,” she replied. “When we find a suitable location we will build a shelter. You will not have all of your city comforts, but it will be at least larger than that little pup tent.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Maybe this wilderness thing wouldn’t be so terrible. Ziva had _really_ thought of everything, after all. Once they got to a place where he could take this heavy bag off his shoulders for good, it might actually be nice, despite his reservations about the great outdoors.

It didn’t take Ziva too long to set up the tent, and it occurred to Tony that he could have helped, though she didn’t seem to need it. He pulled his bag off his shoulders – _finally –_ and shoved the bag toward the back of the tent. It would be tight, but there was no way he was leaving his bag outside. Ziva grabbed her own bag, pulling out a rolled up clump from inside of it. “Is there anything you don’t have in that bag?” Tony asked, and she shrugged.

“I have become accustomed to being out in the field for long periods of time. You learn to pack things in a way that allows for maximum capacity.” She paused for a moment, unrolling the clump to reveal a fat sleeping bag. “This sleeping bag is for two people. It was easier to make one large sleeping bag fit in my bag than two small ones.”

She was so matter-of-fact about it that Tony didn’t even consider how odd it was that they would be sharing a sleeping bag. Not until he’d pulled his shoes off and stuffed his feet inside, sliding in and waiting for Ziva to join him. He furrowed his brow, wondering just how the hell sleeping next to her in such a closed space - _indefinitely_ \- was going to be okay.

Ziva was outside of the tent, doing her best to cover it and camouflage it. Darkness was minutes from falling, and she didn’t think the tent was discernible from more than a few meters away, but she was still worried about being discovered. It was still early, despite the darkness, but it would be stupid for them to keep moving while it was dark out. They had no light source, for obvious reasons, and too many predators would find them to be easy prey if they continued to walk through the darkness. The tent was made of a durable material that wasn’t easily breakable, and anything that happened upon them would have to break through it first. They’d sleep during the darkness and wake at first light. It would be an adjustment, but given their recent travel, it would be akin to jet lag and nothing more. They were still not very far from the tree line, at least, not as far away as she would have liked. She’d forgotten that Tony would slow progress down considerably.

“Oh well,” she muttered to herself as she headed back toward the tent, “it really couldn’t be helped.” She ignored the nagging voice in the back of her mind that seemed to suggest that she could have left Tony behind. _I couldn’t have,_ she reminded herself, and smiled despite the conflicting voices in her head. Perhaps it would have made more sense to have left him behind, but she would not be able to live with herself if she had.

She pulled back the flap and ducked inside, finding that Tony was already comfortably lying down in the sleeping bag. She’d hoped it wouldn’t be weird, especially after everything that had happened lately, but he didn’t seem to hold any ill will toward her. Or sleeping next to her. She zipped the tent behind her.

She pulled her shoes off and slid inside the sleeping bag, kicking Tony’s leg in the process, causing him to groan in pain.

“Sorry,” she guiltily responded, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, “just wasn’t expecting that. You know, for a ninja, you sure aren’t very graceful.” She glared at him, and he smirked back at her. She lightly smacked his arm, and he feigned shock, his mouth opened wide as he rubbed his fake sore spot.

“You are such a child,” she responded. He pouted, but didn’t respond. “Get some sleep, Tony. We will need to get up at dawn tomorrow to keep moving.” She finally lay down, her hand closing around the crossbow, just in case.

Tony shook his head. “Crazy ninja,” he mumbled, yawning. Despite the pain in his back, it felt good to lie down, and he was exhausted. “Night, Ziva,” he trailed off. 

“Good night, Tony,” she murmured, closing her eyes. It didn’t take long for Tony’s breathing to even out and give way to light snoring, and Ziva turned her head toward him. Suddenly, guilt washed over her at the sight of his face, relaxed and comfortable against the pair of pants he’d been wearing that he'd chosen to use as a pillow. _He does not need to fight this fight,_ she thought, a deep breath exhaling toward him.

It was too late now though, she realized, and she reached her hand to his face to lightly touch his cheek, praying silently for his forgiveness before closing her eyes and giving in to her exhaustion.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 4 on Saturday.


	4. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walks are getting longer and the team finally notices their disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Time will start to slip away from them. There will be some time jumps, but it will be very difficult for you (and them) to determine how long it’s been. This is entirely by design, so keep that in mind moving forward.

Tony was surprised to realize that he’d gotten used to the long walks through the forest. He’d picked up a branch to use as his own personal walking stick, as he’d called it, and found that it helped his footing when he started to get tired. Ziva was pretty sure it was all in his mind, but the complaining had died down considerably once he’d picked it up, so she kept her opinion to herself.

It was still hot, even though they’d gotten deeper into the forest and the sun’s rays were mostly blocked out by the trees overhead. It had even rained for a few hours yesterday. Today, she noted, showed no signs of rain, though she supposed yesterday hadn’t, either. Tony staked his stick into the ground and trudged forward behind Ziva, who walked as though she knew exactly where she was going, even though they both knew she did not.

“You think they know we’re gone yet?”

Ziva stopped at the sound of his voice, looking over her shoulder quizzically. “Does it matter?” she asked exasperatedly.

“Well, no, but …” he trailed off. “Don’t you wonder?”

She didn’t answer, not right away. She adjusted the straps on her backpack, stalling for time before turning to face her partner. “I am sure they have noticed,” she finally responded. “We were supposed to have lunch with Tim sometime soon. He will eventually call to make plans, if he has not already.” They both ignored the way she had casually said “we” as though they had ever made their plans as a unit.  

Tony cringed at the thought of McGee, imagining his frustration turn to worry as he couldn’t reach either of them. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt kind of guilty about leaving him behind, even though he wasn’t involved. Tim wouldn’t even have any idea _why_ they’d left, just that they had.

“Widow will not hide forever, Tony,” Ziva mused, seeing the thoughts as though they were her own. “He will understand.”

“Yeah,” came the agreement, though he wasn’t convinced. Then again, Ziva hadn’t originally planned on telling _him_ she was leaving, and likely would have disappeared without a trace if he hadn’t shown up when he had.

“He _will_ understand,” she repeated, adding a nod to her words as if to punctuate her statement. And Tim probably _would_ understand, once he realized what they were up against. He might not completely understand why they _both_ had chosen to leave, but he would accept it. Abby, on the other hand…

“Abby won’t,” he responded unnecessarily, and Ziva refrained from commenting, merely shrugging noncommittally. Abby was her friend and she regretted not being able to say goodbye, but Abby was the least likely person to keep a secret that she’d ever met. And given the number of people who had betrayed or otherwise proven that her confidence in them was unwarranted, that was saying a lot about Abby’s ability to keep quiet. It was a risk that was not worth taking.

“She will not,” Ziva acquiesced, “not at first.” She reached over to Tony’s face, wiping an errant speck of dirt away from his cheek, adding, “But Tim will help her understand,” before flicking the dirt off her fingers and onto the ground.

Tony didn’t look convinced, but he knew as well as Ziva did that Abby could not be trusted with this type of secret, and she’d be the first to break under pressure. The only way to keep her – and by extension, McGee – safe was to keep them completely out of the loop. It was, unfortunately, for the best. She would eventually come to understand. Ziva turned back around, nodding her head to indicate that they should keep moving, and Tony followed.

Then there was the issue of Gibbs, but if anyone was likely to understand, it would be the boss man. Gibbs would be upset at the loss of two of his agents – assuming they would have been reinstated, that is – but he would recognize that they’d left for their own safety, and he’d do what he could to eliminate the threat so that they could eventually return.

“Do you think they’ll look for us?” He asked, breaking the silence again.

“I hope they do not,” she responded, cringing at the thought of it. He’d gotten used to ambling along behind her and thus had not seen her expression, but he could hear from her tone of voice.

“You’re worried that if the team starts to dig for information that it’ll make it easier for Widow to find us?” He was panting for breath, as Ziva had a tendency to pick up the pace whenever they started talking. They’d been doing this at least a week now, maybe longer – he’d lost track of the days already – but he still wasn’t in the sort of shape that she was, especially as the forest grew thicker and they had to navigate thicker patches of brush the deeper they traversed. He’d also come close to tripping many times, especially as the days grew later and his legs grew more tired.

They were hopelessly lost at this point, which must mean that they were still acting according to plan. Even though Ziva checked the compass pretty regularly, Tony could only hope that they weren’t just going in circles and that they would find a water source sooner rather than later.

“Yes, that is exactly what I am afraid of,” Ziva finally answered, breaking him from his brief reflection. She stopped and leaned against a tree, motioning for Tony to turn around so she could grab a bottle of water from his pack. Pretty much everything they drank came from his pack, despite his protests that they could both stand to lighten their loads.

The water was not particularly cold, but it was still water, and it was still a necessity. Ziva gulped half the bottle before handing it to Tony, and he took it gratefully. He took one long swig then gasped, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before taking another. “If the team happens to find us then they may make our situation more precarious. We have weapons, but we are no match for a terrorist cell that would undoubtedly come after us with something much more sophisticated than a crossbow and some knives.”

“Do you think they can be taken out though?”

“I am sure they can, but it would be foolish for us to think that we would be any match for them if they locate us out here,” she responded, taking the empty water bottle from Tony’s hand and slipping it back inside his pack, zipping it back up.

“And if the team manages to? Take them out, I mean. Would you like for them to locate us then?”

She cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow. “Well, yes, but it will not be so easy for them to locate us. We planned specifically for that.” She paused, adjusting the straps on her backpack before speaking again. “We are going to be here for a while, Tony. In that time, we will need to farm, hunt for food, build a shelter. We can spend time training in martial arts – both for your benefit and mine, as I will need to maintain my skills – and we will become proficient with every weapon we can. It may be years before anyone – Widow or the team – finds us, and if they do, we will need to be prepared.”

He didn’t respond immediately, letting the words roll around in his mind for a few minutes. Again, he was astonished at how much forethought she’d put into this despite the fact that she hadn’t known he’d be coming along until just a few days before they’d left. “Guess I should have grabbed a Snickers then,” he finally said.

Ziva wrinkled her face at him in confusion, voicing only, “Huh?” with a confused nod before her face gave way to one of aggravation.

“You know, ‘Not going anywhere for a while? Grab a Snickers!’ Like the commercial,” he supplied, shaking his head at her lack of cultural knowledge.

“Oh,” she said lamely. He’d gone a remarkably long time without making any sort of film or culture reference, and she was taken aback by how easy it had been for them to slip into such a _normal_ exchange between them even in such an odd circumstance. “Shall we keep going?” she asked, turning away from him, signaling that she wanted to press forward. Although Tony would have been content to stop anywhere, she would not be satisfied stopping until it was nearly nightfall.

“In a second,” he replied, reaching to touch the crook of her elbow. She turned to face him, surprised by the gentle touch. Another unsettling piece of normalcy that seemed at odds with their decidedly abnormal situation.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, instead sharing a glance that lingered longer than strictly necessary. Tony’s face cracked into a slow smile first, and it was all Ziva could do to keep herself from returning the expression. “They’ll understand what to do,” Tony said softly, leaning forward as though he was sharing a secret. Ziva was taken by the way she felt when he looked at her like that, earnestly and with reassurance that he would always do his best to care for her. It made her want to lean into his arms and let him hold her, letting his warmth cocoon her until she felt completely at ease.

Giving her arm a slight squeeze, he backed away, and the trance was broken. “I know they will,” she responded lamely, long after the chance to respond had passed. She was certain her face was flushed and she hoped that he would think only of the heat and no other reason. They could not afford to get distracted right now. Maybe if the circumstances were different…

She began to turn away again, preparing for another leg of their hike when Tony broke the silence again, adding, “And we’ll be okay.” She looked over her shoulder and caught his eye, noting the grin he flashed in her direction. A smile crept upon her face as she nodded in return, and she took one last quick look at his confident gaze before turning away and stepping forward and into the wilderness.

* * *

McGee was just in the middle of a difficult boss fight when the shrill ring of his phone startled him, and when he looked at the display he saw that it was Abby.

Sighing, he hit a button on his controller to pause the game, knowing that if he didn’t answer the phone, she would keep on calling. There was no such thing as “unavailable” to Abby Sciuto, despite his numerous attempts to explain to her that sometimes, there were perfectly acceptable reasons not to answer one’s phone. _Such as sitting in one’s boxers playing a video game_ , he thought to himself as he picked up the phone and accepted the call.

“Yeah, Abs,” he said as he placed the phone to his ear, adding, “What’s–”

“I can’t get in touch with Tony or Ziva,” she interrupted, her voice coming through the line rapid fire, and Tim sensed her panic. He rolled his eyes.

“Abby,” he started, resisting the urge to puff out a long sigh, “we’ve been over this. People sometimes don’t answer their phones. It doesn’t mean that they’re not perfectly fine.”

“But–”

“They’re probably busy, out looking for jobs or something.”

“On a Sunday?” _Shit,_ he thought to himself, _it_ was _Sunday._ It was easy to lose track of the days when there was no schedule to adhere to. He’d barely thought about work in the past several weeks, opting to write whenever the inspiration struck – which wasn’t often, he reluctantly admitted to himself – and playing the latest games he hadn’t had time to play while employed as a federal agent.

“Okay, then they’re busy doing something else,” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“ _Both_ of them?”

“Maybe they’re…” he trailed off. Maybe they were doing … _that_ … he thought to himself, feeling his face reddening at the mere thought, but that certainly wasn’t his business to know.

“Timmy!”

He immediately sat up, responding in the defensive. “What? I didn’t say–”

“No! But what if something is wrong? First Gibbs is gone, and I can’t get ahold of Tony and Ziva, and you’re not even _worried,_ and–”

“Abby. _Abby_ ,” he started, trying to calm her down. “I’m sure they’re fine, all right? You need to stop worrying every time someone doesn’t pick up a telephone.”

“Well I’m outside Tony’s apartment and no one is answering the door,” she said, and Tim could hear muffled knocking through the phone. How many times had she banged on Tony’s door before calling him? “I’ve already been at Ziva’s. They’re not there, and they’re not here. Explain _that,”_ came her voice, indignation seeping through the line. Tim moved the controller off his lap and stood up.

“They, uh … went on vacation?”

“Do you really believe that?” Abby asked thickly, and Tim had to admit that he sounded extremely unsure and very lame. Tony and Ziva had never traveled together outside of work before; that hadn’t ever been their relationship and Tim suspected that he would _know_ if it had been, because they were the exact opposite of discreet about their feelings.

“No,” he replied reluctantly, an uneasy feeling starting to settle in the bottom of his stomach. That still didn’t mean that anything was _wrong,_ but if there was one thing he’d learned as a member of Team Gibbs, it was to trust his instincts, and his instincts were telling him that something was definitely amiss.

“Tim?” She said through the phone again, breaking him from his reverie.

“I’m still here,” he replied, taking another moment to gather his thoughts. “Stay at Tony’s, okay? I’m gonna head over there,” he directed, and stood up, walking toward his bedroom to gather a pair of pants.

Abby agreed to stay put, and he hung up the phone, dropping it on his bed. He slid his jeans on, picking his phone back up and sticking it in his back pocket. Something about this scenario didn’t feel right to him, but he still figured it was probably a misunderstanding. He’d probably go over to Tony’s and use the spare key he had on his keyring, only to find that Tony and Ziva were lying in bed and didn’t want to be interrupted.

“That would be awkward,” he said aloud, cringing at the thought. It would, he surmised, be the best-case scenario, though. Maybe then he could finally convince Abby that pestering people was inappropriate and needed to stop. _Fat chance of that,_ he thought to himself, groaning out loud to his empty apartment.

He pulled on a t-shirt and slid his feet into some shoes, checking his reflection in the mirror as he turned out the light to his bedroom. Tony’s apartment wasn’t far, but he didn’t want to take any longer than necessary so as to not leave Abby waiting. Abby was impatient in the best of circumstances, and this was unlikely to be one of those.

It wasn’t long before he’d pulled up in front of Tony’s building and parked on the street, dropping some quarters in the parking meter before heading inside. Abby was waiting outside the door, sitting against the wall instead of pacing or causing a scene, to her great credit. “Still no answer,” she said rather unnecessarily, since Tim suspected she would not still be waiting outside if there had been.

He said nothing, only took out his key and slid it into the lock, opening the door and stepping over the threshold, noting as he did so that Tony’s key was sitting on the floor just inside the door. Why would he lock the door and then leave his key, without taking any of his things? “Okay, _that’s_ weird,” Abby remarked, bending down to pick up the key.

“Don’t touch anything,” he admonished, kicking himself for not having brought any gloves. He didn’t expect to find a crime scene, but something about Tony having left, his fishbowl notably absent, didn’t sit quite right with him.

“The fish is gone,” he added, pausing for just a moment to look around, “So he didn’t leave against his will.” But _where?_ And _why?_ He and Abby both ventured gingerly into the apartment as though they were intruding on something very private, despite the fact that Tony obviously wasn’t here.

“Timmy! His phone!” He walked to the doorway of the bedroom to see that it was sitting on his bedside table, next to the wallet he’d also left, and Tim wasn’t surprised to see that Tony’s ID card and all of his credit cards remained behind.

“Abby,” he started, taking in a deep breath. “I think Tony and Ziva have skipped town.”

* * *

They’d gone to Ziva’s apartment next, only to find a similar setup. Key left under the door, identification and phone left behind, and even Ziva’s cache of weapons left untouched. “That means they’ve left the country,” McGee had supplied, knowing that without their federal badges, they couldn’t carry weapons overseas. Ziva would have otherwise taken her entire arsenal with her.

They’d gathered up both Tony and Ziva’s personal laptops, and were now sitting at the dining table at Tim’s apartment, attempting to retrieve any trace of data off of them. So far, nothing – they’d done an excellent job of erasing the devices. Their phones had provided no information, not a single text message or voicemail left behind – other than the few voicemails Abby had left, and the only text messages sent between Tony and Ziva offered no clues about their whereabouts. The final string of text messages was sent nearly four weeks ago, regarding a movie Tony wanted Ziva to go see.

Tim felt like a bit of a voyeur as he went through the phones, but he noted that the last two texts weren’t all that uncommon – Tony would recommend a film, then Ziva would say that she’d look into it. Sometimes, she would flip the interaction and recommend a book. The other texts would be about grabbing each other’s coffee before work, or random pics of things that one or the other had found funny, followed by a simple “lol” response, in most cases.

“They’re really boring texters,” Abby had remarked, and Tim had had to agree. He was surprised to find that his NCIS log-in credentials still worked and used them to pull their phone records. He found that their lack of texts was made up in the amount of time they spent talking on the phone to one another.

The last phone calls were from around the same time that the last texts were, indicating that they’d probably taken off around that time, but they could have left at any time between then and now. It wasn’t a far stretch to surmise that they could have stopped using their phones to communicate. “So now what?” Abby asked, scrolling through the phone records.

“Bank accounts,” he responded, pulling up the site. Someone, somewhere, would probably notice that he’d remotely logged in to the NCIS server, but if it came down to it, he was prepared to defend his actions to the Director. Director Vance must have expected that he and the rest of the team would return, otherwise the agency wouldn’t have kept his account active. Either that or the IT team wasn’t doing their jobs.

The site brought up the information on Tony’s account first, but McGee didn’t see anything that looked unusual. No weird cash withdrawals, nothing but his regularly scheduled payments – his rent, his car payment, his utilities – all had come out on time, as scheduled, as though he’d not even left. “Weird,” Abby breathed, and Tim nodded.

“I bet we find the exact same situation in Ziva’s account,” he predicted as he entered the information. Not surprisingly, everything looked perfectly normal, except Ziva’s lack of a rent payment. He hadn’t known that she’d purchased her apartment, but it appeared to be paid for, according to this account.

“Offshore accounts?” Abby supplied, eyes wide with confusion.

“Nothing came up,” he replied.

“Then how did they just … _leave?”_

“One of them must have had a stockpile of cash,” Tim muttered. No withdrawals – not even small amounts – from either account?

“Ziva,” they said in unison. Who else would have held a pile of cash in case they needed to disappear? And from what they’d seen, the disappearance was incredibly well-orchestrated, which could have only been through careful planning by none other than the former Israeli. She’d probably had that plan for as long as they’d known her.

“So now what?” Abby jumped up, looking through some of the things they’d gathered from each of the apartments. She _hated_ sitting idle knowing that her friends could be in some sort of trouble.

“I don’t think they want to be found,” was the response.

“But _why?”_ came the response, and Tim didn’t even bother to admonish Abby for her whiny tone, because he kind of felt the same way. “Why would they just pack up and leave without a trace? What would make them do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well we have to find out!” Abby cried, stomping her foot in frustration.

“We will, Abby, but they wouldn’t have left if there wasn’t a good reason.” He stood up too, and began to shuffle through the papers and files they’d taken from Tony’s apartment, hoping to find something, _anything_ to indicate why they’d gone. If they could find out why Tony and Ziva had disappeared, maybe they could neutralize whatever the threat was and keep Tony and Ziva safe. “I just know that they wouldn’t have left if they didn’t think that was the safer option than staying and fighting.”

“So they left us? What if … whatever it is comes after _us!”_

“If they didn’t even contact us, they must be sure that whatever it is, it’s only after them.”

“That doesn’t make it better, you know.”

Tim rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, massaging away an oncoming headache. “I know. But it’s the only thing we’ve got. If there’s one thing I know about Tony and Ziva, it’s that whatever comes their way, they can handle it.”

Abby stepped toward Tim then, putting her arms around him and pulling him into a tentative hug. “Let’s hope so,” she said quietly, raising her eyes to the ceiling and saying a silent prayer that wherever they’d gone, they would manage to stay safe.

* * *

“Tony,” Ziva’s voice broke the silence of the early morning, a nervous sound to her tone.

“What?” he responded tentatively, sensing her concern but unsure how to respond.

“Get the crossbow and come out of the tent. Slowly.” _Way to make a guy panic, Ziva,_ he thought to himself, as he reached behind him and grabbed the weapon, along with a handful of crossbow bolts before stepping cautiously out of the tent, seeing Ziva standing before him, pants unbuttoned, and a large mountain lion standing less than ten yards away, staring her down like it had found itself some dinner.

Ziva had obviously been interrupted while attending to nature’s call, but it wasn’t like her to venture more than a few feet from the tent without some sort of a weapon. What the hell had she been thinking?

He didn’t have time to ask her the question as he watched the lion take a step toward her. It hadn’t noticed Tony yet, and he used that to his advantage. “Ziva,” he spoke as quietly as possible to ensure that only she could hear him. “How do I load this?”

She turned her head slowly toward him, keeping one eye trained on the predator making its way toward her, the disbelief on her face evident. “You do not know how to – bring it here, don’t make any sudden movements.”

Feeling as though he were about an inch tall after being stared at like he was a complete idiot, he slowly took a step toward her, hoping that the mountain lion wouldn’t reach Ziva before he did. Keeping a wary eye on the animal, he continued to make his way toward his partner, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached out and took the crossbow from him, noting as he did so that the mountain lion had drawn closer to them.

Tony watched intently as Ziva took one of the crossbow bolts and loaded it onto the crossbow, cataloging the impromptu lesson for future use. He sucked in a breath as Ziva lifted the crossbow, took aim, and fired, startling at the _thwap_ of the bolt leaving the bow. The lion opened its mouth, a mangled growl coming from it as the arrow struck, and took two steps forward, collapsing in a heap.

Ziva breathed a huge sigh of relief that the threat had been neutralized, but still stepped cautiously toward the lion, stepping behind the animal in case it suddenly leaped up and took off running. It didn’t, though, and Ziva noted that her aim had been true. “Great shot,” Tony complimented, noting as he looked down that the arrow had pierced right at the animal’s lung.

She ignored the compliment, bending down to retrieve her arrow. “We will want to wash this and reuse it later,” she mused, then continued, “but I do not want to use the water supply we have on us to do so. Let us hope that we find water soon.”

Tony didn’t respond, only looked down at the animal, wondering what they would do with it. Before he had the chance to ask, Ziva spoke again, “Its meat will be valuable, and I am sure that we will be able to make use of the hide.”

“Won’t the meat spoil?”

“Not immediately. It would be good if we can find a more permanent camp.” _Near water,_ she didn’t say, but she didn’t need to. That _had_ been what they’d been searching for this entire time.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do?”

Answering his sarcastic question with only a sigh, Ziva turned back toward the tent, reaching in to pull out their backpacks so she could break it down. “Come on and help me with this. We need to get moving again, before anything else comes after us.”

“What are we doing with that?” he pointed to the carcass.

“What do you mean, what are we doing with it? We are bringing it with us.”

“How, exactly?”

Ziva sighed again, exasperated, as she walked over to where the lion laid, crouching down beside it. “It is obvious you have never hunted in your life, Tony. We will have to change that. You are going to learn how to use the crossbow, and how to field dress a carcass. We are going to cut this thing open, remove the entrails, and drag it behind us.”

“No, I never hunted. Can’t you handle the … entrails while I pack everything up?”

She shot him a look over her shoulder as she crouched down beside the dead animal, a look of pure annoyance. “You are going to have to get over your queasy stomach. How many times have you stood in autopsy, and you cannot handle an animal’s innards? It is the same thing.”

“Fine,” he muttered, putting the items he’d picked up into his pack before crossing over to her, squatting down beside his partner as she explained to him how to pull the entrails from a recently hunted kill. He had never known that after hunting, it was necessary to gut the animal so that it loses some of its body heat, keeping the meat fresh and lessening the chance for bacteria to grow. They were lucky that today’s weather was a bit cooler, which was probably why the animal had ventured out to begin with. Tony supposed that _he_ wouldn’t want to hunt when it was excessively hot, either.

It hadn’t been long after the animal had been field dressed before they were on the move again. Ziva had secured the animal to some rope, and they took turns dragging it behind them as they traveled. It wasn’t particularly heavy, Tony noted, but it did slow them down a little bit, especially whenever it got caught on some of the brush.  

They’d walked in silence for hours, and they hadn’t taken a break in a while. Ziva could hear Tony huffing and puffing behind her, despite the fact that _she_ was the one dragging the mountain lion. She didn’t want to make camp yet, but they’d need to at least stop for some water. Just as she was about to stop, she heard what sounded like…

No. It couldn’t be.

She stopped for a moment, and Tony took a huge breath, sighing with relief, saying, “Finally, Ziva.” If she hadn’t put her arm up indicating that he should be quiet, he would have continued, but Ziva clearly heard something and wanted him to be quiet.

“Do you hear that?” She asked after a few moments, her head cocked slightly as though angling her ears toward whatever it was she heard would amplify it.

“Hear what?”

“Just listen. It is faint, but listen closely.” He stepped forward so that he was even with her, and then stood completely still so that he could listen to the sounds around him. There were birds throughout the jungle, many of them making their own sounds, and the sound of a light breeze rustling the tops of the trees, and the trickle of a stream…

“Water,” he gasped, pleased. They may have found a water source, after weeks – maybe even a month, he didn’t really know – of walking through the jungle.

“Come on, take a quick drink from my canteen, and let’s go. If this is a suitable source of water, we can set up a more permanent camp.” Tony obeyed, taking one of the canteens off Ziva’s belt and taking a long swig before offering it to her. She drank, replaced the cap, and put the canteen back. Wordlessly, she turned around and headed in the direction of the sound of the water, stopping every few seconds to listen so that they could be sure that they were moving toward it.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the water source, noting a stream, approximately a meter wide, with a small waterfall and a natural spring. “Oh my god, Tony, it is better than I had hoped we might find,” she gasped, kneeling down at the edge of the stream and running her hand through the water. The brush in this area was incredibly thick, so thick that the stream was almost invisible from several yards away, and they could barely see up or downstream.

“It looks deserted,” Tony noted, and Ziva nodded her agreement. Deserted was perfect. There could be any number of indigenous people anywhere in the rainforest, but they’d found none.

“We should explore up and downstream, just to be sure, but yes, it does look deserted. Tie the rope to that tree to hang up the lion out of reach, and let’s check for other signs of life. And bring the crossbow.” Tony did as he was told, again deferring to Ziva’s expertise, and they set their things down near the edge of the stream, against a huge rock formation that, at least in Tony’s assessment, would make a great natural wall. The rocks were about four feet high, running several yards in either direction, and eventually intersecting the stream, creating the stream’s waterfall.

Tony followed Ziva as she climbed up the rock formation, scrambling up behind her as they began to follow the stream, the walk considerably easier without all of their things weighing them down. “We do not need to walk too far,” Ziva started, “only far enough to ensure that there are no other humans nearby.” Ziva watched as Tony nodded, then started forward again, walking in one direction for what she surmised was close to two miles, the brush becoming even thicker and more difficult to walk through, then turned around and headed back along the stream, satisfied that there was no one upstream of their position.

“So far, so good.” Tony followed close behind her. It would not be dark yet for probably a few more hours, at least from his general idea of what time it was, but he wouldn’t want to get separated from Ziva, who was, as usual, walking at a fairly rapid pace. “You can slow down a little, you know,” he complained, and she acquiesced, but only slightly.

“The sooner we check the other direction and return, the sooner we can begin to build an actual shelter, instead of squeezing into the tent.”

“We aren’t going to finish it in one day, you know.”

“I know that, but the sooner we start, the sooner we can finish. We are essentially building a small home, Tony. And once that’s done, we can stop sleeping on this hard ground.”

“Don’t tell me you brought a bed in that bag of yours,” he joked, his voice sounding hopeful. His back and the hard ground had been a point of contention for him the entire way.

“Of course I do not have a bed, but I _do_ know how to construct one.”

At this point they had passed the area where they hoped to set up camp and were heading in the other direction, again looking for signs of other human life. There was a small natural dam downstream from the waterfall, creating a small pool where they could reasonably bathe, as it was far too small for swimming. Again, when Ziva was satisfied that they’d found no one and that this hidden stream – “quite a gem,” she’d remarked – had no other human traffic, they returned back to where their things waited for them, and Ziva began to look at the area around them and plan how they would build their shelter.

“So this is the place, huh?” Tony said, standing with his hands on his hips and surveying the land. Most of the ground was covered in brush and there were several tall trees in every direction. Wherever they built their shelter, they’d have to build it around the trees, because he was reasonably sure that Ziva didn’t have an axe in that bag of hers. Then again, maybe she did. She’d been remarkably thorough.

“Home sweet home,” Ziva said, a small smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. They’d escaped, and with any luck, they wouldn’t have to keep running from the men who wanted her dead. Not for the first time, she glanced over at Tony and felt thankful that he’d come along. She absolutely could have done this alone, but having him with her had made her feel more secure, somehow. Or maybe it was just the fact that she would have been missing him by now if she’d left without him. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought.

“What now?”

“We should look for some downed trees, large branches. We are essentially going to build a cabin. Once we’ve built it, we will camouflage the roof with tree branches, dirt, leaves, and other things, so that should anyone fly over the area, it would look as untouched as before we arrived here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a few tools, including, Tony noted, an axe. Was there anything she hadn’t brought?

Ziva handed Tony the axe. “Go look for branches, but stay close. I’ll help you with some larger ones in a bit, but I need to get this lion cut up and prepare the meat.”

“Are we going to cook it?” She nodded, crouching down by the stream to pull the carcass from the water. “Won’t the fire be an obvious marker that we’re here? Not to mention the smoke… ” It had been hot most days, but it wasn’t impossible for it to get cold at night, and they’d want to stay warm somehow, not to mention cook any other meat they managed to hunt. Still, fire seemed like an unnecessary risk.

“There are ways to make a fire that renders it more difficult to see. Aerial infrared heat detection would be our only worry, which, fire or not, would always be a concern. It is possible that they may search for us like that, but to scan every inch of the globe in pursuit of two people would take an extremely long time and cost a lot of resources, so it is not very likely. We can build the fire in a pit, and if we burn the right types of wood, it will give off less smoke.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as though everything she was saying was normal, and they were not a pair of former federal agents on the run from an extremist cell and were now planning the next undetermined amount of years of their lives in the wilderness.

“And here I thought that fire was just fire,” he replied with a slight laugh.

“You have much to learn, Tony,” she murmured absentmindedly as she began to cut through the animal’s hide. He took that as his cue to search the area for some downed tree branches, finding that just within his periphery, there were several candidates to choose from. He reached for the first one, finding it partially rotted, and left it alone, searching instead for something in better shape. He found one, approximately six inches in diameter and several feet long, and lifted it up, dragging it toward their new camp.

“I left one that was rotted,” he said as he deposited the first of what he assumed would be many tree branches at the site. So much for having any relief for his back. He was dripping with sweat, and he reached down to the hem of his shirt and wiped his face, finding little relief there. He looked up, noting that that they were well covered by trees, but asked, “Will I get sunburned out here?”

Ziva looked to the sky as well, mimicking his earlier motion, and replied. “No, you should not, with this much cover.” He removed the shirt quickly, tossing it aside, rolling his arms once, then twice, and stretching his back. Ziva watched with interest, forgetting for a moment what she was supposed to be doing. Their long trek through the jungle had done him some good, and she noted that he had lost some of his extra padding, as he’d once called it. He was glistening with sweat as he stretched, and she noted how his muscles flexed as he turned, walked a few paces, and picked up another downed branch.

 _What would it feel like to have those arms around me?_ She wondered, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as she looked down again, focusing on the animal she’d almost completely skinned. Once the skin was off, she could hang it to dry, and they would be able to use it for a blanket, or perhaps some clothing down the road. She made one more cut before turning her eyes upward again, watching Tony again as he grabbed yet another log. She’d never noticed how strong he actually was, his strength never having been really tested, at least not where she’d observed it. Ziva had always been the strong one, not Tony. She’d had no doubt that he was capable, _fit_ even, but he’d always let her handle things; let her be the one to demonstrate her strength. It was as though he’d always sensed that she needed to prove herself in a world overrun with men who thought she couldn’t do what they did or that she wasn’t strong enough.

Tony had always allowed her to be strong enough, but he’d also had this remarkable way of showing her that she didn’t always have to be strong. He knew well that she couldn’t afford to let that exterior break, not where it could be exploited as a weakness, but she’d trusted him enough to allow him to see that side of her.

Ziva had never before considered how much strength he actually possessed. Watching him now, it was like he was standing under an entirely different light, and perhaps, Ziva mused, he _was._ He looked up from the latest branch he’d dropped into the pile – which was rapidly growing – and caught her eye, a look that told her he knew that she’d been watching him. This time, Ziva didn’t try to hide the flush in her cheeks.

“You have lost some weight,” she commented, trying to hide the real reason she’d been watching him.

“Yeah?” He crossed to the stream where she sat with the meat, sitting down and running his hands through the cool water, cupping it in his hands and splashing his face. “All that walking. You have probably lost some, too. God, that felt good,” he added as he wiped his face dry.

Noting the mischievous look in his eye, Ziva smirked as she spoke. “I am not taking off my shirt for you to look.” 

“It’s pretty hot out, and the breeze feels great,” he supplied, but he knew she wouldn’t. Ziva was rarely without some sort of armor, and if that was her shirt today, then he wouldn’t push her about it.

“You have made a good start on gathering. We will not be able to build anything substantial before nightfall.” She changed the subject, returning to utility mode. Tony almost sighed out loud in frustration, not that Ziva wouldn’t take off her shirt – he’d known that one probably wouldn’t work – but that she was closing herself off again, despite the fact that she’d let her guard down long enough to look at him, in a way that, to him, looked suspiciously like longing.

She was allowed to want him, and he wanted to tell her that; to say it out loud, despite everything. At some point, this permanent camping trip would become normal, and why not? Why not take the chance, find each other? They’d been so close _so_ many times, and he was ready to jump in with her, if she’d open up to him. Sure, they should focus on building a passable shelter and making a life for themselves out here in this unforgiving environment, but when that was finished, why not? Why not come together?

The last thing he wanted to do was push her, so he retreated. That was how it worked with them, after all. It was oftentimes frustrating, but god, he believed it would all be worth it in the end, when they found each other. Tony had lost faith in many things over the years, but his relationship with Ziva, no. His faith in _that_ would never waver.

“Come, I have finished cutting the meat. Pick up the hide and hang it back up to dry,” Ziva instructed, getting up suddenly. He noted that the meat was cut into neat squares, sorted apparently by cut, on top of a tarp that he didn’t know they’d had.

He took the hide and draped it over a low-hanging branch on one of the nearby trees, and watched as Ziva dug a circular trench into the ground, lining it with stones. She reached into one of her many pockets and pulled out a book of matches and struck it, lighting the kindling she’d placed, and starting the fire upon which they would prepare the meat. “Aren’t we going to run out of matches?”

“We may, but the idea is to keep this fire burning. The pit will stay inside, shielded from the elements, and will keep us warm when it gets cooler.” She stood up, reaching for some smaller sticks and laying them across the open pit, then placed smaller cuts of the meat over the flame to cook. He watched as she wrapped the others in the tarp, secured it tightly with the same rope they’d used to drag the lion, and placed it back in the stream. “It will have to stay there until we can find something in which to hold it and keep it cool.” She shrugged. The water was cold enough to keep the meat from spoiling, at the very least. They didn’t exactly have a refrigerator to put it in.

“I’ll bet there’s clay around here,” he suggested, and she looked at him, surprised. “I took a pottery class in school. Long time ago, but I remember reading about how some clay comes from this region of the world. And I still kind of remember how to make stuff.”

“Clay would be perfect.” Ziva was pleased. Tony might not have every survival skill she’d amassed over years of working in the field, but he had his own set of skills and knowledge that would be useful.

The meat didn’t take too long to cook, and soon Ziva was motioning for Tony to sit down, where she put the meat into the metal canteen holder, shrugging as she said, “This is all I have.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled through chewed food. “It tastes like heaven after energy bars and berries.”

“No argument here,” she agreed, and they shared a smile over their meal. Mountain lion meat wasn’t anything either of them were used to, but it was meat, and therefore, a treat. “We’ll be able to hunt more often now, and eat more substantial meals than what we had been eating.” She took another bite, then a sip from her water to wash it down, enjoying the taste of the meat on her tongue.

“I could get used to this,” came the response, and Ziva couldn’t help but smile at the way he motioned between them, like he wasn’t talking about living in the wilderness, but sharing an evening meal with her over a cozy fire. She caught his eye, and he smiled back. They were going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 5 on Wednesday the 15th.


	5. Building a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva argue over how to build their home.

Building a log cabin was more difficult and time-consuming than Ziva had anticipated.

She’d never built one before, but she didn’t think it would be terribly difficult, really. Stacking logs upon one another and creating a square pattern, using the rock wall to the one side, and incorporating that into the plan once the height of the cabin exceeded that of the rock face. It should have been pretty simple.

In reality, she and Tony were having quite a bit of difficulty fitting the logs together in a way that didn’t leave open spaces between them. They’d gone through trial and error over the past several days, placing one log, then having to remove it only to place another. It had been an excruciating and time-consuming endeavor, and as of this morning, they still only had their frame laid out, with an opening left for the later construction of a door, and they’d spent a good portion of their time chopping and sawing smaller pieces from the larger branches in the hopes that they would somehow make a better fit.

“I think we are ready to try this again,” Ziva spoke, looking over the pile of logs they’d gathered and trimmed to their liking. The day was just beginning, and it wasn’t yet that hot, though she suspected that working on their abode would change her perception of the temperature pretty quickly.

“Let’s do it,” Tony responded, and Ziva noted with a smirk that he had forgone the shirt again. As it was, she’d cut the sleeves off of her own t-shirt, turning it into a tank top. It would be a while before they would need anything that would keep them warm, and their house would be built well before that happened, giving them plenty of time to create some cold-weather apparel.

She stood at one end of the log pile, trying to decide which would be the first one they’d take over to their frame. When she was satisfied that she’d found the first one, she picked it up, and waited for Tony to grab his end. They worked together, hauling it over to where they wished to place it, and as they set it down atop the previous log, securing the end in place, she gave a slight yelp of pleasure. “It worked!”

“Finally, huh?” Came his response, and they set about gathering up the next piece, one that would sit perpendicular to the log they’d just placed.

“This one,” she said, picking up her end, and again, he followed her lead, and they transported it to its rightful place in their shelter, setting it neatly down atop the bottom log and fitting it against the previous one.

“I need the axe,” Tony stated as he set the log neatly down, noting how it didn’t quite fit against the previous one. He suspected that they would have to do this often, trimming each new piece so that it would match exactly, but they were making much more progress today than they had at any other point in the last several days.

He grabbed the axe and worked at chipping away pieces of the branch, until he was satisfied that it would fit into place. He lifted the log up again, turning it and setting it down perfectly in the corner, heaving a sigh of relief as _finally,_ their building began to form. “Oh, thank god,” he groaned out, and Ziva nodded her agreement.

“I suppose I expected this to be much simpler than it was,” she replied sheepishly, but Tony only grinned at her.

“It’s okay not to know _everything,”_ he joked. “You weren’t exactly the member of the team who spent all their time building a boat in their basement.”

She smirked as she grabbed another log, glad to work with Tony so easily, so freely. “Gibbs would have been helpful, yes,” she supplied. She didn’t really _want_ Gibbs out here with them, though, and she felt like she should let Tony know that. “But we are doing just fine without him, and … if I am being honest, you are much more fun to be around.”

The way his face lit up, she almost thought she’d told him that Christmas was tomorrow and she’d gotten him a brand new Ferrari. Perhaps it was okay to be more open with Tony, despite the fact that their circumstances were less than ideal. He seemed surprised, and she wondered if that was at what she’d said, or merely the fact that she’d said it. “And yes, I mean that,” she supplied, glad to see the grin on his face widen as he caught her eye.

“I’m starting to really enjoy this camping thing,” was his response, and Ziva threw her head back and laughed as they managed to put another piece of their shelter in place.

How _good_ it felt to laugh, _really_ laugh, after so many weeks of stress and worry. They’d spent such a long time running, constantly watching their backs, and now they’d found a place they could call home.

Tony smiled at her once she stopped laughing, reaching for the next log. “I really am glad you asked me to come,” he said almost shyly, despite her admission that she was glad to have him along.

“Me too, Tony,” she replied with a smile as their eyes met across the log pile. He’d proven more than capable, and they’d grown closer as they’d made their way deep into the jungle.

Tony gazed at her intently for several minutes, watching as her expression softened as she fell into her thoughts, and a thrill went through him at the thought that _he_ was the one who had brought that softness out of her, despite her no-nonsense attitude as they’d traversed the wild. He’d heeded her every word, offering suggestions where he could, but she was the expert in surviving, and he was glad to be the dutiful student. Despite all that, despite the way that she had given him often strict instructions, she still managed to find it in herself to let him in.

She was beautiful, her hair all messy, some strands sticking to her face, beads of sweat along her body. The dark hair dye she’d used as a disguise had mostly faded away, he noticed, but he couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly. She wore her home-made tank top with her pants, and Tony admired the way her muscles glistened in the sun, how the natural light seemed to give her a glow he’d never noticed before. Ziva had always been beautiful – _of course,_ he thought – but there was something about her now, in this element, that had him seeing her differently.

He wanted to tell her. Moments passed in silence as he debated with himself, unsure how she would react. Ziva finally shook herself from her trance, pulling Tony from his own, asking, “Shall we?” The spell was broken, and she nudged the log she wanted him to pick up, and he nodded, unwilling to speak yet.

 _Someday,_ he thought to himself, a promise beginning to form in his mind as he and Ziva lifted the log and carried it to its spot in the wall, _I will tell her how I think of her._

For now, however, they had work to get done.

* * *

Tony was pleased to note, as he stepped outside the tent, that Ziva had let him sleep a little later this morning, judging by his estimate of how far in the sky the sun had reached. He was no expert at telling time by the sun yet, but he knew it wasn’t the crack of dawn this morning as it had been previously.

He’d needed the break, and she had recognized that. His back, legs, arms, neck, and well – he thought to himself as he cracked his neck – _everything_ was sore. And continuing to sleep on the ground, despite the extremely comfortable sleeping bag he shared with Ziva, was not doing him any favors.

He hoped that their first order of business after constructing their cabin would be the construction of a suitable _bed._ And if it wasn’t, he’d find a way to plead his case.

“Good morning,” Ziva greeted him when he stepped outside their half-built shelter, stretching his arms above his head.

“You let me sleep late _and_ you made breakfast? Is it my birthday?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” she replied with a shrug and a smile, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her joke. They hadn’t exactly been keeping track of the date, and it had been easy to let the days melt away and into each other. It was almost nice.

He sat down beside her and reached for a bottle of water, opening the cap and taking a sip. They’d run out of the supply they’d brought with them, and they’d carefully started drinking water from the stream. Even though Ziva had found a way to filter it, they’d been cautious about introducing it into their systems but had found that it seemed to be safe to drink, which was another huge stroke of luck they’d been granted.

Ziva handed Tony a piece of the meat she’d heated up and he took it gratefully, nodding his head as he drank. “I think if we work just a few more days, we might be able to start working on a roof soon,” she said while he ate, and he looked at her, nodding slightly.

He’d been following her lead this whole time, so he wasn’t going to stop now. He swallowed down the bite he’d been chewing, washing it down with another drink of water. “And then what?” He asked, taking another bite and then talking around the piece of food in his mouth, “Furniture?”

“I thought you liked sleeping on the ground,” she teased with a slight roll of her eyes. Of _course_ they would build furniture. “Yes, Tony, we will construct a bed, perhaps a table, some chairs, or maybe a bench.”

“Maybe,” he began, pausing to swallow, “we can use the top of those rocks as like a shelf or something. Build the walls a little longer when we get to that height, just expand it a little, you know?”

“I do not think we are going to need–”

“We are,” he interrupted, pulling the piece of food he’d been about to bite into away from his face. “We will eventually begin collecting things. Baskets, probably, right? And all these water bottles. If we do find clay, then the stuff we make. Wouldn’t it be easier to use the top part of that rock as a built-in shelf than have to make one later?”

“Well …” she trailed off. They _could_ build shelves, easily. But this would save them time later, and it wasn’t like they had any shortage of logs.

“I know you have nails and a hammer, but maybe we should conserve those. We can build more shelves later if we need, but why not use what’s already there? Work smarter–”

“Not harder,” she finished. “You are right, it is a good idea.”

He grinned at her as he took another bite of his meat. “It kills you to admit that, doesn’t it?” He teased around the food he was eating.

“No, Tony, but you talking with your mouth full does. You do not have to act so uncivilized just because we are miles from civilization.” Just as she finished speaking, Tony opened his mouth wide, showing Ziva his half-chewed food, and she threw a pebble at him in response.

“I suppose I walked into that,” she said, shaking her head. Tony was still Tony, and although he had been great to have around, for so many reasons, he still liked to irritate her whenever he got the chance.

He swallowed the bite he’d been working on, chasing it with a swig of water. “You did,” he agreed, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle. He stood up, water bottle in hand, reaching his free hand down to Ziva to help her up off the ground. “Let’s get started before it gets too hot out,” he suggested, and she nodded, giving his hand a slight squeeze before letting it go.

If Tony had noticed that she’d held his hand for slightly longer than was necessary, he didn’t show it, nor did he seem to mind. Now that they’d been gone for over a month – she assumed it was over a month, at least – they’d grown much closer, and she’d started to be more open with him, much freer. Where she had once been embarrassed to linger too long, she now felt comfortable, practically craving those brief moments of contact.

They were to be each other’s only company for the foreseeable future, and Ziva was struggling to imagine any scenario where they didn’t become closer.

More than that, she was struggling to find it in herself to mind.

* * *

“We need to make the roof look like it is not a roof,” Ziva called from the top of their building, after having climbed up a nearby tree to stand atop it. The exterior of their house was finally built, complete with a serviceable door and a window.

The window was particularly genius, Tony had noted, and he was surprised – not for the first time – at just how much Ziva had thought of. She’d purchased mosquito netting for a screen to keep bugs from getting in the house, and she fashioned a singular shutter that looked almost like their door, so that they could close the window in the event of inclement weather.

Looking up at Ziva as she stood confidently on the roof, he deferred to her wisdom yet again. “How are we gonna do that?” he asked, cupping his hand over his eyes and peering at her. The sun was bright, even through the trees.

“You’re going to hand me stuff. Brush, branches, anything that can camouflage this thing.” This “thing,” as she’d called it, was a tarp, a camouflage one at that, but certainly not satisfactory. She’d brought it specifically for the sake of covering all of the cracks the logs left in their roof, since it wasn’t like they’d brought roofing shingles with them. It would eventually rain, and the tarp would help keep the water out.

Tony looked around for things that might be suitable, taking a few steps away and picking up a smaller branch, one that they hadn’t used in constructing their house.

“Like this?” He asked, holding it up and toward her.

She leaned forward, reaching for the other end of the branch and pulling it toward her, saying, “Yes, this is perfect.” He watched as she set it down, doing her best to make the branch look as though it had naturally fallen.

“Isn’t it just gonna look natural after a while anyway?”

The look she gave him could have turned a lesser man to stone. Briefly, Tony considered asking Ziva if she had snakes for hair, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that she wouldn’t kill him yet. “Well _yes,_ Tony,” she began with an exasperated sigh, “but what if we do not _have_ a while?”

“You really think they’re gonna realize we’re gone and make a beeline right for this exact spot?” Despite not having a while, as Ziva had said, Tony couldn’t imagine that it was highly probable that they’d be found anytime soon. The surface area of land on the entire globe was extensive.

She stood up straight then, her expression hinting at both weariness and annoyance. “What have I been saying from that night in my apartment?”

“That you are taking no chances,” he echoed for what felt like the hundredth time. Neither of them were wrong, though, and they both knew it. Tony knew that it was pointless to take any additional risk of being found, and Ziva knew that it was highly unlikely that anyone would locate them so soon that this extra precaution of covering the roof was absolutely necessary.

Looking around him, Tony wondered what else it was that they could be doing. It wasn’t like they could take the afternoon off and go see a movie, so he sighed his acquiescence.

“Keep handing me stuff then,” she instructed, and Tony had no choice but to listen. He located another small branch he could easily pick up without disturbing too many other things, carried it over to the house, and lifted it up to Ziva’s reach wordlessly. It was hot, and he wiped his brow before continuing, looking for another object he could pick up that might suit her.

It was late in the afternoon before Ziva was almost satisfied with their progress, looking down at the cover of their shelter. She could barely see the tarp anymore with the various branches, stones, twigs, and other stuff they’d spread across it. “We are almost done, Tony,” she called down, noting how he exhaled with relief. It was _hot,_ and he was sweating quite profusely. She’d smirked when he had decided to take his shirt off, and she’d tucked the sleeves of her own shirt into the armpits, vowing to turn it into a tank top when she got down from the roof.

“What else do we need?”

“Some leaves, maybe. And some dirt,” she said absently. He stared at her, confused, and she felt what Tony would call her hackles raise. “What?”

Tony was irritated, and he couldn’t keep it out of his words if he tried. “Just how do you suppose I’m going to get dirt and leaves up to you? Want me to make you a wheelbarrow?”

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him, her annoyance rising. _I have been up on top of this roof all day, sweating my ass off, and he is bitching?_ She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, tossing it down to him, hitting him in the chest. “Put it in that,” she spat, running a hand through her unruly hair before settling her hands on her hips exasperatedly.  

Tony just stared at her and she froze, realizing what she’d done. She’d been wanting to take her shirt off all day because of the heat, refraining only because it might get weird between them. She was still wearing a bra, but walking around in her underwear with Tony present wasn’t exactly normal. Tony fingered the fabric lightly, still unable to take his eyes off of her. “This will work,” he said rather unnecessarily, breaking the silence, and Ziva nodded, not trusting her voice. She’d literally just stripped off one of the few remaining barriers between them, and the significance of the moment was not lost on either of them.

She’d tossed him her _shirt_ , for god’s sake. What was it he had said once? _Baring our souls? It didn’t get any barer than this_ , she thought. Tony, to his credit, said nothing, and made no big show of the fact that Ziva had just stripped in front of him, in anger or otherwise. He merely turned, taking her shirt in his hands, and gathered as many leaves as he could in the fabric, feeling her gaze upon him as he worked. He wanted so badly to turn around again, meet her eyes, but he resisted, despite knowing that his resolve was crumbling, and that hers seemed to be, as well.

Tony tried, but he couldn’t get the image of Ziva, angry, sweaty Ziva, stripping off her shirt in anger and tossing at him. She’d practically hit him in the face with the damn thing. And then she had stood there, on top of their roof, her hair an unruly mess despite the ponytail she’d put it in, wearing just her bra and shorts, and _glared_ at him.

Sure, he’d seen her in various states of undress before, as she would often spar in her sports bra or wear a bikini, and they’d gone undercover more than a few times. He still had the pictures she’d asked him to delete from their trip to Los Angeles in his apartment. Despite her annoyance, he never could bring himself to destroy them, and he was prepared for the consequences, should she ever find out.

But this was different. Here, Ziva was stripped bare. She was open and exposed, and he sensed that her clothing was a fairly vital part of the armor she wore every day, the armor she’d put on specifically to keep others – _him_ – out. Tony couldn’t deny that they had grown closer in the last year. Her father had passed and she had leaned on him, and despite the fact that she’d wounded him deeply when she told him she had felt alone at her father’s funeral, he’d eventually accepted her apology and it had only strengthened their bond.

And now they were in the middle of nowhere, quite literally, with no other human contact for miles, and every day it seemed that something else drew them closer together. Their touches had begun to linger, and Tony noticed how he had started to crave those bits of physical interaction between them. Two hands intertwined, a hair brushed away from a forehead, a pat on the back. The jungle was hot, stiflingly so, but the mounting tension between them seemed to be making it even hotter. Something would have to give, and soon, because he wasn’t sure how long he could look at her – clothed or not – and resist this pull between them.

* * *

“We should find something to cover the ground, if possible. Not that we cannot use the dirt, packed down, but we will be able to keep much cleaner if we can find some sort of flooring.” They’d finished the roof yesterday, jumping into the stream for a bit to wash and cool off. Rather than start a new project immediately, they’d chosen to sit next to the stream, listening to the running water and the birds calling from high up in the trees.

Neither of them chose to speak about what had happened the other day. Ziva hadn’t chosen to put her shirt back on after Tony had used it for the transport of leaves and dirt, and Tony had reacted as though she hadn’t taken her shirt off at all.

There had been a shift in the atmosphere, but they refused to mention it, although the incident seemed to be almost forgotten when they woke this morning and Ziva was back to business, speaking about flooring.

“Shale,” Tony said immediately, his confidence surprising Ziva.

“What?”

He shrugged before speaking again. “Shale. It’s the type of rock around here that seems to be layered, like the stuff that makes up that one wall. I learned about it in college.”

“You took a science course in college?” She stared at him, her mouth open in surprise, eyes wide. Since when did Tony know anything about science?

“Don’t look at me like that. I had to take some science credits for my gen-ed requirements, so I took a geology course. Pretty fascinating, actually. That’s where I learned about shale.” He reached over and took her hand in his, pulling her behind him as he led her across the stream, to the continuation of the rock face that made up their wall. “Look.”

Ziva noticed that he hadn’t let go of her hand despite the fact that they’d reached the point he had been leading her to, so she kept hold of his hand, enjoying this brief moment between them, despite the way Tony held her hand almost absentmindedly. Perhaps it could always be this simple and insignificant, the way they touched as though they belonged together. Perhaps it didn’t always have to be awkward like it had been a few days ago.

“Shale. It looks flat because of the way it breaks. I faintly remember reading it all those years ago, but I can’t remember all the exact science stuff.” He shrugged slightly. “Science is McGee’s thing. But there’s a ton of it around here. I’m sure we can use that to kind of tile the floor, right?”

Ziva smiled, not for the first time, at Tony’s knowledge outside her own. “It should be quite adequate,” she mused, finally letting go of his hand as she stepped closer to the rock face, working to pull pieces of it apart. She was pleased when it broke easily, and she motioned for Tony grab some, as well, taking it back across the stream and just outside their house, where they’d eventually tile the floor. Ziva marveled at the smooth surface of the rock, something she’d have never noticed on her own.

 _Perhaps it might even feel like real flooring when they were finished_ , she mused. They spent the next few hours gathering as many flat pieces of rock as they could, using the claw of the hammer to pry apart any pieces that were particularly stubborn, amassing quite a stack before either of them spoke again.

“Not exactly your typical floor tile.” Tony was looking at the stack of stones they’d gathered, noting that none of the tiles they’d created had any sort of shape to them. It would be a challenge to lay them down without too much space between them.

Ziva stood beside him and surveyed the pile, looking at the edges and noting, as Tony had, that the tiles weren’t exactly square. It didn’t matter, though, because the flat surface was much more important than perfect squares anyway. “We will have to be creative. I do not think we can cut them to be more even.”

“Probably not.”

“Well then, let’s get to it. I think we can start at the far end and work our way forward.” She grabbed as big a pile of rock as she could carry and walked into the house, setting it down at one end of the building. Although the space wasn’t that big, Tony knew this would probably take most of the day, if not the entire day.

Tony assumed that she wanted him to follow her lead, but he didn’t really see why they both had to work in the same place. “Why don’t we start on opposite sides and meet in the middle?”

Ziva turned her head and glared at him. “So I do not have to keep getting up and getting more rocks. Surely you can appreciate not having to be bent over the floor all day.”

“Sure, but I don’t think it’s going to be so difficult that I can’t manage it myself. Maybe if we’re both working this won’t take as long. We can even bring all of the rocks inside and grab them as we need them.”

“But–”

Tony interrupted her, his words exhaling on an exasperated sigh. “Maybe then we can just be done building this place. It’s not like either of us have had any practice building houses, but this is taking forever and I just want it to be done.”

Ziva narrowed her eyes, grabbing a single stone from her pile and carrying it to the corner of the cabin. “Fine, have it your way.” She kneeled down in the corner and placed the stone against it, putting it as tightly against the walls as possible. When she got up to grab another stone, she looked at him with annoyance, and despite his best efforts, he sighed. She could be so difficult sometimes.

Letting her alone to work out her frustrations, Tony opted to gather the remaining stones and bring them into the building so they’d be able to grab what they needed as they went along. He then set about creating his own pile and starting in the opposite corner, working to fit the stones against each other. Despite not having any sort of grout or other way to affix the stones in place, they seemed to settle rather well against each other, and with the help of some of the dirt on the ground, the tiles sat firmly in place.

They worked in silence for the next several hours. Tony could sense Ziva’s continued annoyance with his insistence on doing things his way, so he decided not to anger her any further. Laying down the floor wasn’t too hard, and Tony found that his part of the flooring was coming together rather nicely, though he hadn’t looked to see exactly what Ziva was doing.

When he turned around, he was surprised to see that between them, they had only one small strip of land left to cover, and that both his side of the house and Ziva’s looked pretty darn good.

It was actually starting to look like a house, a small one at that, but an honest-to-god _house._

Not wanting to continue that train of thought, he grabbed some more stone and set to work on finishing up the last of the space. If Ziva was still angry with him, she didn’t show it, but then, she hadn’t said a word to him in hours. He’d let her be the first to break that particular bit of ice.

It wasn’t long before she did, looking at the floor approvingly as she spoke. “You were right, Tony, it was much faster this way.” Rather than call her on the fact that she’d admitted he was right again, Tony merely grinned and shuffled his shoes off of his feet, wanting to test out the smoothness of the new floor. They’d found the smoothest rocks and brought that back with them, and Tony noted how good it felt to walk around on something resembling an actual floor.

“Come on Ziva, take your shoes off, it’s … amazing, really.”

Their grudge all but forgotten, Ziva slipped off her own shoes and tested out the floor, murmuring in approval. This rock had worked out better than she could have hoped. They had four walls, a roof, and some flooring, and now all that was left was to build some furniture. There would be a bed, of course, and a table with a bench alongside it. They’d use the top of the rock face for storage, like Tony had suggested, and perhaps …

“Ziva, your feet!” Tony’s gasp startled her out of her thoughts. He was looking in dismay at the red marks and blisters all along her toes, concern evident in the way he’d stopped short.

He started to crouch down and Ziva backed away. “They are just blisters, Tony. It is no big deal.”

“They look like a pretty big deal to me,” he supplied, unable to hide the frustration in his tone.

“It is _not.”_ She seethed, glaring at him, her tone asking him to drop it. “They will be _fine.”_

“Like hell.” Before she could respond, Tony had dropped his shoes onto the floor and strode over to her, picking her up off the ground.

Ziva struggled against him, her tone rising in ire. “Tony!”

“Ziva, trust me, all right? I’m just taking you over to the stream so you can clean those off. The last thing you need is to get your feet all infected.”

“I can _walk._ Put me _down.”_

“Only if you agree that I will carry you back into the house when you’re done washing the dirt out and you will keep off your feet until I can find some way to clean and bandage them.”

Ziva turned her head toward him, her glare softening, but only slightly. “Fine,” she breathed, her eyes narrowing in frustration. She stalked out of the door and toward the stream, ignoring the small voice that told her to be glad that he was so caring toward her.

She was not surprised to see that Tony had followed her out of the house and sat beside her just as she dipped her toes into the water, sighing with relief as the cool water washed over the open sores. He was right, of course, that her feet needed to be cleaned or the blisters would just get worse, but he didn’t need to treat her like she couldn’t take care of herself.

“Next time, could you at least _ask_ before you just sweep me off of my feet?”

He grinned sheepishly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks at her choice of words. He pushed a strand of hair off of his face as he dipped his toes into the water beside hers. “Oh, I’m supposed to be sweeping you off your feet now?” He chuckled at the way she rolled her eyes, knowing damn well that she’d meant something else entirely but not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her over it.

They sat in companionable silence as Ziva leaned forward and examined her feet. The blisters had all broken open, making them much more painful, but the water had both soothed the pain and washed away the dirt that had gotten into them, and she looked over at Tony as he watched her, concerned.

“I am ready.” She spoke softly, not completely willing to admit that she needed his assistance, but in truth, she did. She couldn’t very well walk back over to the house without getting her feet dirty all over again, and there was no way in hell she would put her shoes back on and exacerbate the blisters further.

Tony stood up, offering her his hand, and she used him to pull herself up, her feet still in the water. Much more gently than before, he picked her up, scooping her legs up so that his arm rested under the bend of her knees, and had she not already sucked in an involuntary breath at the way it felt to be pulled this closely into him, she might have noticed the way she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

It wasn’t far from the house to the stream – they’d planned it this way, after all – but Tony still wasn’t ready to ponder the implications of carrying her bridal style into the house they’d just built together. He almost wondered if it was some sort of sign, some symbol from whatever deity had set them on this course. As he pushed the door to their house open, he noted the way Ziva looked at him, and he dared not speak, despite wanting so desperately to ease the tension with some sort of joke or movie reference.

Somehow he realized that this was not the occasion, and he set Ziva gently down on the floor, making sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. He was breathless, almost unable to speak, but he managed to say, “Stay there.” She merely nodded, waiting for him to gather something upon which she could place her newly cleaned feet.

When he returned, the air was decidedly less thick, and he was able to joke again, as he’d found the first aid kit she’d packed, complete with band-aids. They wouldn’t last, but he’d take advantage of them while they did. “Still looking for the kitchen sink in there.” He’d nodded toward the backpack, and she shook her head.

“Just give me the damn first aid kit.”

Tony knew better than to offer to help Ziva bandage her feet. Despite wanting to, he could sense that he’d done enough by carrying her back from the stream, so he sat beside her, watching as she worked. How many times had Ziva bandaged one of her own wounds? He thought better than to ask her.

“Just ask, Tony,” she murmured after bandaging up the third of her injured toes. How on earth she knew that he wanted to ask her something shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, and he stared at her for a moment, mouth agape, before speaking.

“You’ve done this a lot, haven’t you?”

She stopped what she was doing to turn her head to face him. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she shrugged lightly. “It was necessary that I learn to care for my own injuries.” It unsettled Tony how casual she sounded as she spoke, and he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. “Cleaning and covering blisters is nothing, Tony. I had to give myself stitches once. Here,” she pointed to her upper thigh, where a scar remained.

“What happened?”

“Despite my training, I found myself on the unfortunate end of someone’s knife.” She turned back to her feet, grabbing another bandage so that she could work on another toe. “I was undercover and could not risk a hospital visit, so I took care of it myself.”

Tony cringed. He could handle corpses in autopsy, blood and other bodily fluids, but the thought of stabbing himself repeatedly with a needle and thread was a bit too much. “You say it like it’s nothing,” he heard himself saying, his voice almost reverent. Ziva stopped and turned to face him again, her hand still holding the foot she’d been bandaging.

“It was, I guess.” Tony had always been impressed by her attitude toward what most would consider extreme circumstances, but it still unnerved her when he looked at her like that, like she was some sort of a marvel. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

He lifted his hand, placing it lightly on her bare shoulder and she shivered involuntarily at the touch, fighting the urge to lean toward him. So tempting to give in, to scoot closer and rest against him, but she was frozen in the moment, captivated by his gaze. “Like I’m … spectacular or something.”

Tony leaned forward slightly, and for a moment Ziva was sure he was going to kiss her. Her skin tingled in anticipation, but he only smiled at her slightly as he spoke. “Because you are.”

“Tony…”

She was the first to look away, her face hot. She wasn’t blushing, that much she knew, but she didn’t know what was happening between them at this point or whether she wanted to act on this attraction that had been building pretty much since they’d met. Squeezing her shoulder lightly before standing up, he spoke quietly. “I’ll bring our stuff inside. We’ll build furniture tomorrow, I take it?”

Ziva let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Yeah.” She turned back to her foot, making sure the bandages were on tightly before switching to the other leg. “We’ll plant some seeds tomorrow, too. We’ll continue to hunt for food, and catch some fish, but we’ll definitely be able to grow some vegetables to supplement.”

“I was hoping you might have forgotten about the vegetables,” he joked, and Ziva threw one of her dirty socks at him, smirking when he jumped out of the way before it struck.

“Tony,” she spoke, her expression turning serious again as she caught his attention. “Thank you for helping me with my feet.” He smiled in response. He knew just how hard it was for Ziva to admit that she needed any type of help with anything, something she was still learning to do as they continued on this mission together.

“Any time, ninja.” Ziva returned his smile, thankful – again – for the fact that he’d come along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 6 on Sunday. Thank you all so much for reading.


	6. Hot and Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their home built, they continue to struggle to resist the pull between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes with a lot of sexual tension and quite a bit of angst.

“Oh, I can’t tell you how much better it feels to wake up this way.” Tony stretched as he got out of their bed. They’d built it together the day before, and last night was the first time they’d gotten use of it.

“It does make quite the difference.” Ziva smiled as she looked over at their handiwork. To look at the bed, it didn’t look all that comfortable, but they’d really worked it out so that it felt almost like a normal bed. They’d have to find a way to make some pillows, but for now, just sleeping on something fluffier than dirt was a vast improvement in their quality of life. They’d also made sure that it was big enough for the both of them. Although Tony was used to sleeping on a ridiculously tiny bed, there was no way in hell Ziva was prepared to sleep crammed up between him and a wall, or with her backside hanging off the edge.

And it wasn’t like there was enough room in the cabin for a second bed. Not that she truly minded sharing with him, after all, they’d certainly done it before and they’d gotten quite used to sharing over the past several months since they’d left. Still, this bed afforded them more space than they’d had before, and a hell of a lot more comfort.

They were still using the sleeping bag, of course, only now it was unzipped and being used as a blanket. The tent was folded up neatly and put away, and chances were they wouldn’t need it again for a while, if ever. Ziva was reluctant to consider using it for anything else at the moment, but they’d already been gone for at least a couple of months now, and it seemed unlikely that they would be going back.

Ziva followed Tony outside, where he was leaning over the edge of the stream, his t-shirt discarded so that he was wearing only his shorts. All the work over the past couple of months had done wonders for his physique, and she couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles rippled in his back as he moved. She sucked in a breath at the now-familiar heat she felt whenever she admired him, stepping forward to join him.

“Care to swim with me?” He asked as she approached, and he slid his shorts off and slid into the small pool they’d been using as a bathing area since they’d gotten here. It wasn’t very deep, perhaps only a little over four feet, and it was barely wide enough for Tony to spread his arms out on either side of him, but Ziva couldn’t help the temptation she felt at stripping down and jumping in alongside him.

She shuddered involuntarily. He was _naked_ in there – she’d seen his bare ass before he’d gotten in – and despite her longing to _feel_ him, she wasn’t so sure that it was a good idea. “Come on, Ziva,” he teased from inside the water, “it feels great! I’m not going to bite,” he added, raising his eyebrow.

 _I almost wouldn’t mind if you did,_ she thought to herself, but shook her head to clear the thought. It was just an innocent swim, no more. She stripped out of her t-shirt, now cut off at the sleeves, and her shorts, and dipped her toe in the water, testing the temperature. Despite her comfort around Tony these past few months, she still didn’t want to get in without any clothes on.

She was being ridiculous, and she knew it. So _what_ if they were in a small pool of water barely big enough for two people without clothes on? What was the worst that could happen? That they would _finally_ stop pretending that the heat between them didn’t exist? _Live a little,_ she told herself, but still waited until Tony’s back was turned to slide out of her bra and panties before sliding into the water, feeling instantly cooler as the water washed over her body. Tony turned just as she managed to stand up to her shoulders, her knees slightly bent so that she was still covered by the water, and grinned at her.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the water itself, or about lowering her guard while she was around him, enough to slide into the water naked beside him. Where he was _already_ naked.

“It is refreshing,” she agreed, answering both of his questions with the same statement. And it _was_ refreshing. She felt lighter, almost freer, despite the fact that their nudity didn’t have to actually mean anything. _Keep telling yourself that,_ a small voice inside her head chided, but she narrowed her eyes, effectively silencing the voice. She didn’t need to over-analyze every last intricacy of the relationship she had with Tony DiNozzo.

Treading water, she leaned her head back just enough to get the back of her head wet, feeling her hair soaking behind her. The cool water felt heavenly against her shoulders, and she felt the tension of the past few days of hard labor finally washing away. She let out a small moan of pleasure at the sensation of the water washing over her, and it took her mind much longer to catch up to the fact that Tony had heard her, and he had gone incredibly still and was now watching her with something akin to longing.

She gulped. It would be so easy to just… after all, he was right there, wasn’t he? What could possibly be the harm in just exploring a little, in closing the gap between them? The gap that had once been a huge gulf, a canyon, now both literally and figuratively nothing but a tiny swimming hole they shared, mere inches between them. “It feels amazing,” she said breathily as a way of apologizing for her indecent sounds not more than a minute ago, and Tony gulped at the way her voice sounded, as though she were in the throes of a very different type of passion. Ziva was treading water beside him – completely nude, the both of them – and making sexual sounds, with arguably sexual words, and he was seconds away from the embarrassment of being caught hard as a rock by the partner he wasn’t supposed to have these feelings for.

But dammit, he had them, and he wanted nothing more than to slide over, pull her into his arms, and _show_ her just what she was doing to him with just her proximity. As he met her gaze, he could see that she was similarly conflicted, that she was also fighting with desire, and _to hell with it,_ he thought, and he drifted over to her at the same moment that she sank down into the water, dousing herself fully.

The cool water washing over her face brought her back to earth, and as she listened to the muffled sounds through the water, she ran her fingers through her tangled curls, waiting until she needed to draw a breath before emerging soaked. The feeling that she may have ruined something important between them began to gnaw at her, but this wasn’t the time, nor was it the place.

God, she wanted him, wanted nothing more than to reach for him and pull him into her. But they had so much else to worry about, so many things that could happen that they needed to prepare for. To get distracted now could be deadly. She glanced at Tony, finally meeting his gaze, and he was struggling to mask the disappointment he felt in the moment – _had_ it been a moment? – having passed.

She was chicken shit and she knew it, and he knew it, too, but the feeling had passed, and now she felt a new urgency – the urgency to retreat. The swim had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Ziva was feeling as though it had been a mistake. What had she been thinking? It wasn’t like they were unfamiliar with each other, but this kind of intimacy was on an entirely different level. Friends, _partners,_ even partners who pined for each other as they seemed to, did not swim together naked in a small watering hole. She should have kept her clothes on.

And now she struggled with an entirely different problem – wanting to get out. How could she just slide on out of the hole when she knew that his eyes would be upon her, looking her up and down? What little restraint she still had would crumble underneath what would surely be a hungry gaze, and they could not afford to lose focus. “I need to get out,” she said finally, hoping that he would understand her meaning without her having to say it. _“Nothing is awkward between friends_ , _”_ he’d once said. She was reasonably certain that he hadn’t said that with this exact scenario in mind, because this was _extremely_ awkward.

“Oh, um … yeah,” he stumbled over his words, and Ziva realized the extent of his embarrassment. At least if she was feeling awkward, he was right there with her, but she hadn’t counted on this level of weirdness between them. It was just a swim.

She wondered how much _more_ awkward it might have been if they _had_ gone for it, after the regret began to settle in and they made up excuses as to why they shouldn’t have done that. _No,_ she mused as Tony turned around, giving her the space to exit the swimming hole, _this was the only way they could proceed._

Ziva slid out of the swimming hole and gathered her clothes, not wanting to put them back on since she was clean and they were quite dirty. She could manage the walk back to their house without anything on, and she’d bring these clothes back out to wash them later. It might do well for her to spend some time out here alone, without Tony’s presence and the awkward heat between them.

Once she made it into the house, she peeked her head out the door and called to him. “It’s okay, I’m out now.” He didn’t turn around, and she wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard her, but she closed the door behind her and set her dirty clothes down by the door, making a mental note to pick them back up later. She then went into their makeshift closet – if it could even be called a closet, as it was little more than a crevice with a shelf, upon which sat their clean clothes – and pulled out something new to wear. A pair of panties and a huge airy t-shirt that could, to some fashionistas, be considered a dress, along with some sandals she’d made for herself. If they needed to go hunt or something, she’d pull on a pair of pants, but for hanging around the house, this would be fine.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing the sleeping bag out absentmindedly, trying to think of what things they needed to accomplish today. They had food, so they didn’t need to hunt unless they wanted to, and they’d finally finished building everything their house needed, with the bed they’d finished yesterday and finally slept on last night.

The _bed._ A new wave of dread washed over her at the thought. They’d only made one bed, and they’d have to share it again tonight, even after what had happened earlier. She groaned at the thought of having to awkwardly navigate that particular land mine. They would have to talk about what happened _today,_ or else sleeping in the same bed would be uncomfortable as hell.

She sighed as she stood back up. Logically, she knew that they couldn’t get involved. As much as she wanted him, and _oh_ how she wanted him, it would be too distracting. They had to train, since neither of them would have guns. Tony needed to become more proficient with both the crossbow and a bow and arrows. They’d have to first _make_ a bow and some arrows. They would both need to become much more adept with knives. Hand-to-hand combat. She could fight, sure, but if they didn’t train, she would lose her edge. Widow wouldn’t let up, and neither could they. If they chose to engage in other activities, they’d lose valuable training time.

Another sigh fell from her lips at the thought. _Never?_ her mind wondered, and she shook her head. Perhaps not _never,_ but definitely not right now. Training first. Preparation first. Perhaps once they got to the point where both of them were confident in their abilities and when training would be more of a maintenance thing, perhaps then. She would talk to him today, and explain everything to him, explain why she had ducked away when they’d been so close.

If they were back home, she’d have been giddy with excitement at the thought of him reaching for her, naked in a pool. It probably wouldn’t have happened, given how different their situation was now, but she would have gone to him willingly. Maybe if she let him know that it wasn’t that she didn’t want him, it was just that the timing was not right, then maybe he’d understand. They couldn’t. Not yet. She wasn’t rejecting him outright, just … putting him on hold. “Hold on a little longer,” she said out loud, more for her own benefit. She would have to be the one to show restraint.

“Ziva?” She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of Tony calling her from outside the house. “You decent?” He continued, and she let out a slight breath of relief at his thoughtfulness.

“Yeah, Tony,” she called back, and she tried not to stare as he opened the door, hesitating there as he held his shorts in front of his still-naked form. He must have had the same idea about not wanting to put on dirty clothes on after washing off.

“Can you just toss me some shorts?” he asked, clearly not wishing to encroach upon whatever sanctuary she’d created for herself. He stood at the door, a few water droplets pattering down upon the stone floor as he waited for Ziva to act so that he could put something on.

Ziva sighed inwardly, trying not to let her guilt at the awkwardness between them show. “You can come in, Tony. I am not-” _I am not trying to shut you out,_ she didn’t say, biting her tongue to keep the words at bay. They would have to talk, yes, but this would not be the time. They should both be clothed, at the very least. Ziva recalled that someone had once told her that one should never have important conversations without clothes on.

That was probably good advice, particularly in a situation where neither of them could really go anywhere. It wasn’t like one of them could go stay in a hotel room for the night, though they still had the tent, if it came all the way down to that.

Tony’s shoulders slumped with relief at her words, and he stepped gingerly into the house, heading toward the back where all their clothes were kept, pulling out a simple pair of cotton pants – one of the pairs he’d made on his own, after Ziva had shown him how to sew them – and stepping into them. They were only pants, but Tony instantly relaxed as though he were finally stepping back into his armor, something he’d need for what he felt might be an impending battle.

Ziva hadn’t left the house, opting to just turn around as he’d gotten dressed, and he cleared his throat before speaking, informing her simply, “I’m good.” She turned around, nodding at him simply before sitting on the bed, patting beside her and indicating that he should sit down. He furrowed his brow, momentarily confused.

Noting his questioning look, Ziva spoke up. “I think… we should talk.” She watched as he swallowed down a gulp, and she realized how it must have sounded. “Clear the air,” she amended, and he seemed to lose some of the uneasiness, though he chose to sit on the bench at their table rather than next to her on the bed.

“Okay,” he said, somewhat unnecessarily, as he’d already sat down and looked toward her, meeting her gaze with as much courage as he could muster in that moment. From the moment she’d gotten out of the water and left him by himself, he’d been waiting for this. As much as he’d hoped that Ziva had returned what he felt for her, this would be the time she would tell him that she didn’t, and that he was foolish to have tried something. Especially since they were now out in the middle of the god-forsaken jungle with no other people for miles and no exit strategy for the foreseeable future.

What had once been a surprisingly pleasant extended camping trip was about to become his own personal version of hell on earth.

Sensing his discomfort, Ziva took a deep sigh, intending to clear the air before things got to be even more awkward. “About…” she paused, drawing in a breath. Ziva had always prided herself on being as direct as possible, but the one thing she struggled with expressing, in any fashion, were her feelings. It wasn’t like Tony was going to reject her, because he seemed to do the exact opposite not long ago, but she still couldn’t find the exact words to express what she meant to say. “About…” she said again, waving her hand toward the general direction of the stream, wordlessly indicating what she was talking about.

“About?” Tony prodded, but he offered her nothing more. He knew what she was talking about, but he was apparently determined to make this difficult.

“About… _earlier,”_ she finished, narrowing her eyes at him as she spoke. He didn’t _have_ to make her say it. There was only one thing she could possibly be referencing. She paused, attempting to gather her thoughts, when Tony spoke up, at once unwilling to endure the silence for any longer.

“You ducked away,” he said, his eyes meeting hers, his expression no longer neutral but confused and hurt, and her heart wrenched at the sight; at the thought that she may have caused him any pain. The last thing she had ever wanted was to hurt him. It was half the reason she’d originally planned to leave without having to say goodbye, and the main reason she’d asked him to come along with her.

She nodded slightly. “I did,” she admitted, bowing her head for a second and taking a breath before looking back up and meeting his gaze, determined to face this head on. “But it is not like I didn’t want…” she trailed off. Again, she struggled to find the words. Her chest felt tight, as though everything she wanted to say was stuck there, and if she could just cut herself open, the words she wanted so desperately to say would come pouring out of their own volition.

He seemed to understand, at least, when she interrupted herself and became lost in thought. “Then why…” It was his turn to trail off, to leave the words unsaid, but Ziva hadn’t needed him to speak them anyway. Had she been in the same place, she’d have wondered the same thing. A part of her was still questioning her own actions, telling her to ignore the rational side of her brain and just give in to what they both obviously wanted.

“It cannot happen. Not now. Not with so much still to do, with so many things we must prepare.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but Tony cut in.

“We have the house built up. We’re settled.” It was sounding like a pretty flimsy excuse at this point, and he didn’t want to hear anything but the truth.  

Ziva drew in a breath, her shoulders raising, and then let it out again, allowing her shoulders to slump as she relaxed back down. “They will not stop looking for us. We must train. Hand-to-hand. Weapons. We do not have guns, Tony, but they will. We have to be able to counter guns, when the time comes. They could find us at any moment, and we must be ready. To get… _distracted…_ now, it could cost us. I do not want Widow to come here and for us to not be ready for them simply because we could not control ourselves.”

Tony didn’t respond, and she took that as her cue to keep speaking. “I’m not saying _never,_ Tony. I am saying ‘not right now.’ Not yet.” It was the closest she’d _ever_ come to admitting that she was genuinely interested him, and she felt a momentary rush of panic sneak in at the thought.

“Not yet,” he repeated, letting the words sink in as they hung in the air, unanswered for several moments. He met her gaze again, seeing the longing there, longing he hadn’t noticed before. She _had_ wanted him, but she was more concerned with their safety. With Ziva, practicality almost always won out. “Okay,” he simply said, agreeing with her assessment that they should put whatever thing they were about to get into on hold. If she had meant to appease him, then she had done what she’d set out to do.

“Okay,” she echoed. “We’re good then?”

She met his gaze, looking at him imploringly. She willed him to understand despite her inability to fully articulate her thoughts. Tony took a deep breath, running his hand through his still-damp hair. His look suddenly turned wistful, as though he was slightly regretful of the moment they’d almost had, but he nodded. “We’re good.”

* * *

Tony didn’t want to be caught staring, but it was hard for him _not_ to. It had gotten unbearably hot over the past few weeks, and they had taken to altering more of their clothing to allow better airflow, which had meant that he’d stopped wearing shirts altogether, and Ziva had cut the sleeves off of some of hers, giving him a stunning sideboob view.

A sideboob view that he was currently staring at with little to no willpower to take his gaze away from. There was the possibility that she would gut him and leave him to rot if she caught him, but every inch of armor she took off, every bit of herself she allowed him see, left him even more irrevocably caught up in her web.

They’d stayed true to their talk a few weeks ago and had not moved forward, but the wanting, the _desire,_ had not gone away.

Ziva, he had noted smugly, had not been very subtle in her ogling. Tony was certain that for as much as he was _trying_ to be subtle, he had not been, much the same way that he regularly noticed her gaze on him, her eyes glazing over as she undoubtedly allowed herself the small indulgences of checking him out. He’d be lying if he were to say that he didn’t notice and that it didn’t turn him on, but he made no move to call her on it, as he didn’t want to break the ease with which they’d once again begun to live and work.

Besides, he could still cling to her insinuation that it could happen. Someday.

“So what do you want for dinner? Fish? Or would you like some… _fish?”_ Ziva teased, turning around with that morning’s catch dangling from between her thumb and her finger. They’d been hunting several times, but hadn’t seen any game. Luckily, there had been plenty of fish to catch and cook up, but they were both getting pretty tired of eating the same thing.

It wasn’t like they were in much of a position to be picky. “Hmm,” he mused, taking a moment to feign being lost in deep thought. “I was thinking maybe we should go for some fish.”

Ziva’s laugh, like her smile, lit up her entire face, and Tony cataloged this brief slice of time as a memory he would cherish forever. Despite the tension between them, the change in attire leaving him much more tightly wound than usual, and the god-forsaken heat, he had never felt more at ease with Ziva than he did now.

“Well, it’s not like we can just go to McDonald’s,” she smiled, shrugging her shoulders as she began to work on cutting up the fish and taking the bones out.

“Oddly,” he began, reaching for the knife she’d set down and inspecting it, running his fingers over the edge of the blade, “I don’t really miss it that much.”

She snatched the knife from his hand, smirking at the way he looked back at his hands for the scratch they both knew wouldn’t be there. “Never thought I’d hear you renounce greasy fast food.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s not like there’s one right around the corner.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders again. “No use dwelling on things I can’t have.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, and he felt rather than saw Ziva tense up at his words. He hadn’t intended it to be taken that way, but now that it was out, he couldn’t exactly take it back.

And after all, that _was_ how he had dealt with what had happened several weeks back. He’d done his best not to dwell on it, to try not to think about it and let it bother him. And although it was a textbook example of an avoidance tactic and he _knew_ how unhealthy it was to avoid something rather than deal with it head on, he had chosen to do so anyway, and Ziva had let him, probably for similar reasons.

“Do you think we made the right choice?” Ziva asked after several minutes of silence between them, changing the subject. Rather than switching back to their lighthearted joking from a few minutes ago, she’d chosen to head in the other direction entirely, and the question took him completely by surprise.

“You mean…” He swallowed. Was this the time she’d chosen to call his bluff, to call him out on avoiding the thing they’d chosen not to talk about? When stepping back and not getting involved had been _her_ decision?

“Packing up, leaving town?” She clarified. When he didn’t respond right away, she kept speaking, her hands expertly working the knife through the fish as she spoke. “I don’t doubt that we needed to take some sort of drastic action, but was this the right course to take? Disappearing without a trace, leaving our friends and family and starting an entire new life?”

She set the knife down, sticking the now-filleted fish over the fire, and looked up at Tony, meeting his gaze. “I know that we had resigned from NCIS, but I’m certain we might have been given our jobs back if we wanted them, after the whole mess with Gibbs had gotten sorted out. It was a good life, Tony, one that we both walked away from without looking back. Do you … do you regret it?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“No?” 

“You said it yourself, that night in your apartment. They were going to use the fact that you – and by extension, me – had no current connections to the agency to come after you. They were going to strike at you simply because you were vulnerable without them. We had to take action. You said they’d stop at nothing, and you had to go.” _We_ had to go, he inwardly corrected, but he knew what she would understand what he meant.

“But this hasn’t been easy,” she insisted, her fingers twitching at her sides like she wanted to find something to grab onto. “And I am wondering if it has been worth it.”

“To run and live or stay and die? Of course it was worth it.” How was it possible that she was having doubts _now,_ so many months after they’d disappeared in the first place?

“It just … I worry, Tony. I worry that we have only put ourselves at more risk by coming out here. Or that we have put the team at risk, since we did not even let them know about the threat or why we left.”

“I’m sure they know,” he shrugged, pulling the cooked fish off the fire and onto a makeshift plate. It would need to cool before they could eat it, but at least they’d have breakfast.

“Yes, they surely know by _now,_ but not at first. What if Widow got pissed because we had sneaked away without their notice and they just decided to target someone else at NCIS, someone we are close to?”

“We have no way of knowing if that’s the case. All we can worry about now is ourselves. Protecting each other.” If he was being honest, he didn’t like the idea of something happening to people he cared about and not being able to do anything about it. That was one of the main reasons he’d agreed to come along with Ziva in the first place, but Ziva wasn’t the only person he cared about. Ziva was merely the person he cared about the most.

He employed another well-oiled denial tactic and forced himself not to go down _that_ train of thought.  

“And what if that is not enough?” She asked the question flatly, as if she dreaded the answer.

He shrugged, letting out a slight sigh. “Then we will go down fighting.”

“And you are… okay with that?” She paused, swallowing a lump that had begun to form in her throat. The thought that they’d come out here only to die, away from anyone who would know of their demise, away from anyone who would care they were gone, was almost too much to even contemplate.

Tony shook his head, his expression somber. “Well, no, not entirely. But it’s all we can do, isn’t it?” He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “All we can do is fight, Ziva. It will have to be enough. Isn’t that why we’ve been training? Because I gotta tell ya, I don’t need these sore muscles if this isn’t gonna be worth it.”

Ziva glared at him, though her eyes were shining, and he knew that she had no real intention behind the threatening look. She looked him up and down, sizing him up. “Oh, it’s _definitely_ worth it.”

He shivered at her words, and just like that, the mood had shifted again; anxiety had given way to teasing, and teasing had now given way to a thick tension, not unlike the tension between them the day when they’d gone swimming. The longing was still there, he realized. He wondered if it would ever _not_ be there, or if he’d go his whole life wanting this woman, in every possible way.

“My physique aside,” he breathed, his voice sounding strange even to him, “The training is helping. I feel more confident in forms of combat that don’t require a firearm.”

“Well that’s good, since we don’t have any,” she joked, finally pulling her hand out of his and wiping her hair away from her face. Bringing them from home was out of the question, and there really wasn’t any way to buy them here without arousing suspicion. Even the black market would make them memorable to someone, and they had needed to be as invisible as possible. Ghosts, Tony had once told her. Or had it been spooks?

Regardless, the only place one could truly be inconspicuous while buying a firearm, legally or not, was in the United States, where weaponry was not only readily available, but regularly celebrated. Here, the black market was quite active, but people tended to remember to whom they sold their wares.

“Widow will, won’t they? Have guns, I mean,” Tony asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

She nodded. “They will be armed out their asses, we can count on that.”

“I guess it’s good we have the crossbow then, at least.”

“And that you have become much better with it. Since you are struggling with the bow.” Ziva was nothing if not direct, and although she was often blunt, Tony appreciated her honesty. Then again, lying under these circumstances could very well lead to him keeping sloppy habits – like the way he raised his shoulder unnaturally when he aimed the bow – that would be a liability. Ziva never let him feel like he was good enough until she was _certain_ that whatever he was learning to do was as natural as breathing. She was a grueling trainer, but he expected no less of her, and he _had_ improved in so many areas. He felt stronger in places he didn’t even know he’d had.

He no longer felt offended by these statements, because they were the truth. “I just need more practice,” he stated confidently. There were only two weapons though, so if she was more comfortable with the bow and arrows and wanted to leave the crossbow to him, he was fine with that.

“Then go grab the bow and we’ll practice some more,” she instructed.

“I thought we were going to be training more hand-to-hand today.” He wasn’t trying to argue, but merely remind her. They’d made a schedule of sorts. Some days were meant for shooting the bow and arrows, others were for working with the crossbow, others for different types of hand-to-hand combat. He’d grown used to the routine.

Ziva had already gone to grab the bow and arrows, though, so he didn’t see the use in arguing. Once she set her mind to something, there was little point in trying to stop her, and although he’d had plenty of his own input to give as they’d settled themselves into this corner of the world, Ziva had been the one in charge, and it had been her lead he’d followed.

She handed him the bow wordlessly, and set the arrows down on the ground beside them, save for one, which she handed him so he could nock it against the string. He did so, and almost immediately, Ziva sighed, and he realized that she must have found something wrong with his form.

Without speaking, she stepped behind him, adjusting the way he was holding the bow, starting – again – with his shoulders. She pressed them down before giving them a small rub, and then ran her hands along his arms, her right hand coming to rest on his wrist as she adjusted the angle at which he held the arrow. She continued to adjust him wordlessly, and he could only watch, willing himself to memorize the way he should hold the bow and arrows and not the way her touch seemed to scorch his skin.

“Ziva,” he warned, her name barely choked out as he struggled to subdue the wave of lust he felt at her touch. He’d done so well lately at ignoring the way he felt when she was near, when she touched him, but all of that seemed to fly away. _What made today different?_

It was the way she touched him. Her touch was less… clinical, he realized. Her hands still adjusted him as they moved, but it felt less like a correction and more like a caress. Tony longed to turn around, to grab her by the arm, to pull her tight against him. He desperately wanted to forget about everything but the way her hands felt, the way her fingers danced upon his skin.

She knew exactly what she was doing, he could sense it. “Tony,” she breathed. He turned his head and she met his gaze, her hand still resting on his wrist as he lowered the bow. He turned. The arrow fell to the ground first, followed by the bow itself, and he pulled his arm, leading her toward him by the wrist she’d been holding. “Tony,” she whispered again, her voice a warning he was determined not to heed.

With his free hand, he caressed the bottom of her chin, tilting her face upward just slightly, not waiting for her to speak again before leaning forward and finally taking what he’d been wanting for so long. His lips met hers in the softest of kisses. Instead of backing away, Ziva leaned forward, opening her lips and letting him in, kissing him back thoroughly.

Tony growled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her body tightly against his. God, but he had been wanting this for so long. Her lips moved against his own hungrily, taking everything he offered, and it was almost too soon before she was pulling away, lingering in his space for just a few moments more, coming back for small nibbles at his bottom lip before finally pulling away and gazing into his eyes.

“That was unexpected,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, despite himself. That was the exact opposite of unexpected, if either of them were being truthful.

“Please don’t tell me we can’t keep doing that,” he whispered back, his eyes looking deep into her own, their foreheads touching lightly as they breathed in each other’s space. He _knew,_ they both knew. They weren’t supposed to let this happen yet. He searched her gaze as she bit her own lip, the conflict all over her face. He wasn’t asking for much – just for her to allow him to keep kissing her. “Just this, Ziva,” he added, running his thumb along her bottom lip softly, his eyes slipping shut at the feel of her lips pressing against it.

He moved his hand to cup the back of her head, his fingers lingering in the mess of curls that hung wildly there. She leaned forward and kissed him again, softly, before backing away and laughing at the way he chased after her, wanting more. She finally answered, “I don’t suppose there’s any turning back now, Tony.” And it felt so good, so _right_ to kiss him, to allow this one small indulgence, that she really couldn’t find any argument against it, so long as they took it no further for right now.

 _No,_ he thought as he tightened his arms around her waist, _there certainly wasn’t any turning back._ Not since the minute he’d shown up at her apartment and followed her into the literal ends of the earth. “Then kiss me again,” he begged, and her face broke into a smile as she leaned forward and did exactly that, the bow and arrow training momentarily forgotten as they held each other tight under the jungle sky.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 7 on Thursday.


	7. A New Type of Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva grow even closer and McGee realizes that he needs to back off.

“All right, now you have to widen your stance a little, like this,” Ziva instructed, demonstrating how Tony should stand. Now that they’d finished building their house and everything inside, there was little else to do but work on their combat and survival skills, except on days they needed to hunt.  

“Okay, then what?”

“Watch me, and try to do what I do,” she said, and demonstrated what Tony would call a rather spectacular ninja move, landing back in the same stance she’d started in. He looked on, impressed, and Ziva felt her face flush under his gaze.

“You look like something out of the Matrix,” he pointed out, and she smirked.

“Well when I start walking up the walls and levitating in the air…” she teased, not finishing her sentence. He’d gotten better about the movie references, but she could tell that Tony still missed his DVD collection and many of the modern conveniences they’d left behind.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

 _“Do_ you now?” She cocked her head to the side, giving him a sultry glance, one that he was sure was meant to be suggestive in nature. He felt a rush of heat pass through him, inwardly thankful that Ziva had chosen not to _completely_ shun all playfulness even while they were working.

“I thought I did,” he croaked, his surprised expression causing her to chuckle gently at him. She smiled, stepping toward him, noting with pride that he was still in the stance she’d instructed him in a few minutes ago. Tony was a quick study, when he really cared to learn something. Or maybe it was because _she_ was his teacher.

He caught her gaze, noting the way she looked at him, like she’d just now begun to figure him out, to see him differently. Maybe it was the way she’d felt when he had held her last night, kissing her beside the firelight in their home.

 _Our home._ It had been a surprising but welcome development, but he’d started to get used to thinking of it not only as a home, but as _theirs._ He reached for Ziva and pulled her toward him, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and kissing her gently, brushing the hair off her face with his free hand as she wrapped her arms around him. They were sweaty and it was hot out, but they hardly minded, feeling, for the moment, completely wrapped up in each other.

Slowly, they pulled apart, leaning their heads together breathlessly. When Ziva opened her eyes, she noted that Tony was looking at her with a new intensity, and she felt at once self-conscious but secure in his arms. He would not let her fall alone. If _falling_ was the word for what they were doing. _It sure felt like it._ “I was thinking about how you had stopped complaining about missing all of your movies – and other modern toys – back in DC,” she said breathily, her cheeks flushing with color.

“Why would I need any of that when I have you?”

She blinked a few times, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to this side of Tony, the side that was completely open and capable of saying such sweet things. She’d seen it before, from time to time, but never to this magnitude, and never without the air of bravado he’d always stuck to in the past. Tony had always been sweet, if one was looking for it, but he had almost always kept it hidden. This sort of sincerity was unsettling. “Are you implying that I am a ‘toy’?” she asked, opting to diffuse the tension with humor, retreating into their safer habit of casual banter.

He grinned, recognizing her retreat, giving her arms a squeeze before letting her step back. Perhaps this would be the way things would progress for a while, some light teasing to go along with their newfound interest in each another, a step toward each other and another one back into the comfort zone they’d shared for the past eight years.

It wouldn’t be all that hard for him to adjust to pulling her close and kissing her, not with the way she played her lips against his. Ziva poured a lot into her kissing, and he shuddered just thinking about how _perfect_ she was at it. Involuntarily, he licked his bottom lip, catching her eye as she watched him, her gaze intense upon him.

“I cannot hope to teach you anything if you continue to look at me like that,” she said quietly, and he grinned in response, reaching for her hand to pull her back into him, taking her lips in another slow embrace, parting them with his tongue and sighing against her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

“I don’t know how else to look at you,” he confessed when he pulled apart, feeling her shudder in his arms at his words before pulling her back to him.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from his arms, leaning forward to give him one final peck on the lips before demonstrating her fighting stance again, looking at him pointedly until he grudgingly obliged. “You’re no fun,” he grumbled with an over-exaggerated sigh, and she shook her head at his obvious show of resignation.

“Perhaps,” she said, leaning forward to adjust the way he stood, “if you are attentive and can master this quickly, we can resume our _other_ activities.” She hadn’t meant to sound nearly as flirtatious as she had, but she noted with a smirk that it had been effective, as Tony immediately straightened up, looking at her attentively and awaiting her next instruction. _Too easy,_ she thought, though if she was being truthful, it hadn’t really been easy to pull away from him at all.

Despite her desire to pull him into her and just keep making out with him, feeling him close and gasping against her, it was important that he be trained in martial arts. There were many places on they could be hiding, but she didn’t want to take any chance in case Widow somehow managed to find them. They needed to be ready, no matter how long it took. Tony knew it, too, and all it took was one pointed look from her and he would immediately remember what they really were supposed to be focusing on. Ziva suspected that she was beginning to sound like a broken record, but that didn’t change the fact that she was _right._

It would not do for them to be unprepared. Sure, they had the crossbow, and they'd also been practicing with their bow and arrows, but those wouldn’t necessarily be useful in the type of fighting that groups like Widow routinely engaged in. There would be guns, absolutely, and there would be knives, but on top of all that, there would be physical combat. Both she and Tony were fitter from having worked so hard on building their house, but they needed to be conditioned and prepared.

And even Ziva had to admit that despite her new muscle tone in places it hadn’t been before, she was not in peak fighting condition.

She looked over at Tony, who was still staring at her like he might devour her, and closed her eyes against the warmth that flooded her body. He desired her, that much had been obvious for as long as they’d worked together, but now it was different, like there was an electric charge between them. Ziva couldn’t explain the pull she felt toward him, especially when he looked at her like _that._

Would one more day really hurt? Surely, Tony could hold his own in a fight, and it was not like Widow would have located them _this_ soon, right?

It was that very rationale that led to Ziva stepping forward and taking Tony by the neck, crushing his mouth to her own. A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she never would have allowed herself this indulgence _before._ She shushed it.

Tony resisted for only a second as he tried to maintain the stance she’d put him in, then pulled her flush against his form, their bodies slick with sweat in the jungle heat. Ziva tangled her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, sucking in an involuntary gasp when he broke their kiss only to dive right back in again, mirroring her and running his fingers through her own unruly strands.

“What about-”

She interrupted him breathlessly, silencing him with another small kiss before pulling back, saying, “It can wait.” Not one to argue, Tony wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, plundering her mouth with his tongue, feeling her moan against him.

Slowly, Ziva began to steer him backwards, as though she was leading him somewhere. He resisted at first until he realized that she was trying to lead him into the house, and a thrill of warmth shot through him at that. He clung to her, allowing her to lead, and as he backed up against the exterior wall of the house they’d built together, he allowed Ziva to press him into the rough bark of the logs they’d carefully set down on top of each other.

Gasping for breath as she did so, she pulled away, her eyes searching, wondrous, and she took him by the hand as she pulled open the door and led him inside. She briefly wondered if their bed would be quite enough for this, seeing as they hadn’t built it with rigorous activities in mind, but she couldn’t find it in herself to mind. So what if it crashed to the ground? They would just build another one, no big deal. All she wanted in this moment was _him._

As if he could read her thoughts, Tony paused momentarily, speaking breathlessly. “Will it hold?” he asked, before diving back in to claim her mouth. She shook with a slight chuckle as she kissed him back, pulling back with a gasp.

“I don’t care,” she breathed, and Tony growled as he pulled her back into him, deciding that he had never heard her say anything sexier than that.

He backed her toward the bed and she felt her knees hit, stumbling momentarily before sitting down, holding him by the neck and pulling him down and toward her, her legs parting as he stepped between them, devouring her with kisses. Their kisses outside the house had been fast and frenzied, as though they’d needed each other _immediately_ if they had hoped to survive. Now, however, she kissed him thoroughly but slowly, knowing that they could take their time, really savor each other, and she sighed against him as he pulled away for just the tiniest of breaths. She pressed her lips back into his and crushed her body against his own, her back arching as she started to roll her hips toward his.

His fingers teased at the edge of her shirt, which was beginning to fray at the edges, and she felt her skin tingling at every touch as he lightly traced his fingers along her waist before grasping the shirt and lifting it slightly, pausing for just a second to pull away and whisper, “I get to look when you take your clothes off this time.”

Ziva shivered at his words, the sound of his voice, husky and heavy with want, settling somewhere deep inside her. She was the one to pull her lips from his to speak this time, only barely. Her lips continued to move against his as she replied, “Mmm… so do I,” grabbing the hem of his own fraying shirt.

She ran her hands along the expanse of his abs, well-defined after months of hard labor, her fingers teasing through his chest hair as she worked his shirt up and over his head, exposing his bare skin to her curious hands. A lifetime ago, she’d have said that he had too much hair, but she couldn’t find herself anything but aroused by him, _all_ of him. His eyes were locked intently on hers as she explored, his lips parted as he panted for breath, the intensity of his gaze fueling the fire that was burning between them. Ziva tilted her head up and he leaned down, devouring her lips again, shivering as he felt her arm tighten around his back and pull him against her and onto the bed, both of their legs hanging off the side of the bed as they held on for dear life, their lips and limbs tangling, the task of disrobing forgotten in their pleasure.

“Scoot,” he instructed when he finally pulled his lips from hers, and she obliged, turning to her side so that they would be lying on the bed properly, their hips aligned as they settled against each other, wanting nothing more than to be close. He pulled away, running his hands through her hair and gazing into her eyes when he spoke again, softly. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined our first time,” he breathed, and she shivered against him.

“Oh?” The word was little more than a murmur against his neck, and he scrunched his shoulders at the way her lips tickled his skin.

“Somehow, this exact scenario never came up,” he joked, leaning in to kiss her again, and she responded eagerly, the laughter she’d felt bubbling up dying on his lips. His hand was snaking around her waist, drawing her close, and his fingers began to graze lightly on the skin of her stomach, mimicking the motions he’d made earlier when he’d been teasing at removing her shirt.

This time, however, he ignored the presence of the shirt entirely, tracing his fingers up and underneath the fabric, slowly teasing his way up her skin, watching intently as she drew in a breath when he finally cupped one of her breasts in his hand. He hadn’t seen her – not really – and yet he knew, just by the way she felt in his hand, that she was absolutely perfect. He leaned forward and kissed at her neck, reveling in the way she leaned her head back to allow him access, and the soft moan she made as he kissed his way along her jawline.

Her hands were playing at the hem of his shirt and he reluctantly pulled away so that she could remove it from him, shuddering with want as her hands came back to run through the hairs on her chest. “Maybe this scenario will be even better,” she murmured breathlessly against his skin, and he groaned. Reality was _definitely_ better than fantasy.

Ziva arched her back off the bed and toward him, reaching at her own shirt now, and Tony eagerly helped her take it off, tossing it without looking, his eyes now focusing on the expanse of skin he’d exposed. Ziva had stopped bothering with a bra some time ago, so now she was bare before him, her nipples straining toward him, her desire evident as he reached out to touch before groaning into her mouth once more.

She replied with a moan of her own as his hand found one peak, teasing the hardened nipple between this fingers, her back again arching off the bed and in toward him. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the entire situation, maybe it was the man himself, but she was aching for him already and he had barely begun touching her. _“God,”_ she gasped, and he shuddered as his hands found the other breast, his lips sucking lightly at her neck, causing her to moan wantonly.

“So beautiful,” he breathed between kisses, and again she felt a surge of _need_ shoot through her, settling between her legs, where she was already wet and craving his touch.

 _“Tony,”_ she gasped as he pinched her nipple, delighting in that twinge of delicious pain, writhing against him as he worked her expertly. She slid her hands down his torso, reaching for the hem of his pants, playing her thumbs at the waistband. “Please,” she begged as an afterthought, hoping he would understand what she needed.

He ignored her request, sliding his hand down her stomach, teasing lightly there, watching intently as she sucked in a breath, holding it briefly and then moaning again as he began to play at her pants. She immediately lifted her hips, removing her hands from his pants and reaching for her own, and Tony chuckled, allowing her to slide them down, watching intently as she bared herself for him, his arousal only growing at the sight.

She was unshaven, of course, as they didn’t exactly have the amenities they were used to, but it hardly mattered. His hand had been resting at the base of her abdomen as he’d watched with interest while she removed her pants, but now he began to move it again, sliding his fingers to play at the thick curls there, teasing his way toward her center, his eyes watching closely as her lips parted with a soft moan of want.

He was so hard right now he could barely stand it, but he was absolutely _loving_ watching Ziva as he pleasured her. “You are so beautiful,” he said a second time as he leaned to kiss her again, his voice barely a whisper against her lips. She surged forward and kissed him hungrily, her hand reaching now for his, guiding him forward. When he finally – and barely – brushed her clit with his finger, she broke their kiss with a cry, canting her hips toward him, begging for more.

 _“Please_ touch me, Tony, I _need_ you.” Her voice was little more than a moan, and he growled, allowing the feeling to settle in his groin. He wanted nothing more than to rip his pants off and surge into her, but she’d asked to be touched and by _god,_ he was going to oblige.

More boldly, he began to run his hand between her legs, growing even harder – if that was possible – at the realization that she was unbelievably wet for him. “You’re so wet,” he gasped with awe, his fingers running between her folds, coating themselves in her moisture. He began to stroke slowly, trailing his fingers around in a small circle, teasing lightly.

“More, please,” she begged, and he slid his hand further, finally entering her with his finger. Ziva sucked in a breath at the sensation, arching her hips toward his hand, her body almost involuntarily moving toward the source of this new pleasure. He stroked her deftly, his finger sliding in and out of her, curling and twisting within her. “God, that feels _incredible,”_ she moaned, rocking toward his wrist.

“Yeah?” He teased, his voice thick with want. “You like that?”

 _“Yes,”_ she groaned, reaching to his neck and pulling his face down to hers, their lips meeting in a hungry embrace, her tongue tangling with his. He continued to stroke her, causing her to bite his bottom lip, and he cried out at the sudden, sharp pain.

She was so unbelievably wet and Tony could tell she was close, a fact which made him painfully hard. “God, I want you,” he groaned against her mouth, kissing her hungrily as he rocked his hand against her, fucking her rapidly with his fingers, delighting in every sigh and moan she made as he drove her to the edge.

She pulled his head from hers, looking him square in the eye. “Then have me,” she panted, licking her lips in anticipation. _God,_ his fingers felt incredible, but she needed _more._

He stilled momentarily, and she took that opportunity to reach for the waistline of his pants, reaching as far as she could to slide them down. He got the hint, pulling his fingers out of her with one slow stroke, rubbing her clit with his thumb before leaving completely, and she watched with interest as he slowly slid his pants down his legs, freeing his erection for her perusal.

Ziva licked her lips. He was so goddamn beautiful, so gloriously hard, and she desperately needed to feel him. _“Please,_ Tony,” she begged, grabbing his hip and pulling him toward her. He followed, sucking in a breath as she reached to touch him, wrapping her hand firmly around his cock and rubbing his head through her moisture.

 _“Shit!”_ he hissed, closing his eyes against the over-stimulation, praying to every deity he could conjure that he wouldn’t come right then and there. He’d known she was wet for him, of course, but it was quite something else to feel her moisture at the tip of his dick, waiting and ready for him. He sucked in another breath as she positioned him at her entrance, meeting her gaze as she took her hand away, placing it firmly on his ass and nudging him forward.

He obliged, parting her slowly with his length, a low growl coming from the back of his throat. _Christ almighty, she felt so fucking good._ He teased just at her entrance, light, shallow thrusts, working her even further into a frenzy. She begged again, crying out, _“Please,_ Tony,” and that was all it took for him to thrust all the way in, bottoming out and settling within her. She cried out loudly then, her body welcoming the intrusion, and then she was kissing him, pulling his lips hungrily over hers, tasting and teasing with her tongue as every nerve ending from the very tips of her toes to the innermost parts of her tingled with pleasure at the way he felt, hard and pulsing inside of her.

When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, it was only to growl, “You feel so _fucking_ good,” before pulling out almost completely and driving back in, her body arching toward him and her walls contracting around him.

“So do _you,”_ she breathed, rolling her hips toward him as he began to thrust more rapidly. She was wound so tight, her release so _close._ “Harder,” she begged, and he obliged, pistoning his hips against her, and soon she was falling, her pleasure rolling over her. She quivered in his arms as he drove into her, throwing her head back, her mouth hanging open and her eyes closed tight.

Tony watched her as she came, his arousal only deepening at the way she tensed around him, her body first going rigid and then relaxing into her orgasm. He slowed his movements, letting her take every last bit of pleasure from him, loving the way she clung to him, her nails digging into his arms as she scraped for something to hold onto. “I’ve got you,” he breathed, rutting slowly in and out of her as she finally came down, her breathing heavy and her eyes drooping slightly. Ziva had never looked more beautiful to him than in that exact moment.

He was still moving slowly and giving her time to recover from her high when she turned them suddenly so she was on top, feeling him deep inside her. She began to roll her hips slowly around, building up her own pleasure again as she rode him slowly, rocking back and then forth, up and then down, tightening around him each time she came back down upon him.

This new position was the sweetest kind of torture for him, and he didn’t know where to look as she fucked him – everything was so appealing. He alternated between watching his cock slide in and out of her, watching her breasts bouncing to the rhythm of their lovemaking, or meeting her gaze as she methodically worked them both into a frenzy. He rested his hands on her hips, but he didn’t guide her, opting instead to allow her to set the pace, loving the way she would alternate between fast, hard strokes and slow, rolling thrusts.

She was fucking _killing_ him.

“Fuck,” he growled as she came down on him especially forcefully. She groaned, too, leaning forward, their bodies aligned as she rode him slowly.

“Tell me how good I feel,” she moaned in his ear, nibbling the lobe a bit, yelping with pleasure when he jerked up against her. “I want you to talk dirty to me, Tony,” she begged, her whispered words hot against his ear.

He groaned again, her words shooting straight to his cock, and he thrust hard and up into her, unable to hold back anymore. “You feel fucking _amazing,”_ he grunted. “So wet,” he panted, holding onto her hips for leverage as he began to set a faster pace, loving the way she read his thoughts and began riding him much more rapidly. “So _tight,”_ he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut when she contracted around him intentionally, driving him right to the brink of the abyss.

“I could fuck you forever,” he groaned. “I wanna bang you from behind, wrapping my arms around your waist and pulling you toward me as I fuck you doggystyle.” He watched as Ziva seemed to shudder, her eyes fluttering closed as she sank down on him, licking her lips. “I want to fuck you up against the wall, holding your legs up as I nail you, hard and fast,” he grunted, feeling himself grow harder at the mere thought of all of the ways he could fuck her. He’d never been this dirty with a woman before, but now he was so turned on he could barely stand it.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Ziva,” he begged, noting how she quickened her pace to match him, both of them thrusting vigorously toward each other in chase of their release.

 _“Mmm,”_ she groaned, her hips rocking against him as he thrust up and into her, hitting _just_ the right spot to make her see stars. “I want you to bend me over the table and give me your cock until I scream your name.”

 _“Good fucking Christ,”_ he growled, his hips bucking against her wildly. Never in his life had he ever heard a woman say something that got him this riled up, but he was right _there,_ right on the edge of falling. “Tell me you’re gonna come again soon,” he begged, and Ziva, unable to elicit any sounds other than moans as he pistoned up and into her, nodded unsteadily, her lips parted in ecstasy.

“Touch yourself,” he begged, reaching for her hand and leading it toward her center. “I want you to come with me. Make yourself come with me.” He was _so_ fucking close, but he desperately wanted to see her fall apart again, especially from this vantage point, where he had full view of her body and how fucking hot she looked riding him furiously.

She did as he asked, rubbing her breasts with one hand while circling her clit with the other, allowing him to take complete control over her, despite the fact that she was on top. Still, he noted that she continued to thrust against him, her thighs flexing beautifully with every motion of her hips. Ziva could kill him with those thighs, he was sure of it, but all he could think about was how fucking beautiful they looked wrapped around his waist as he fucked her into oblivion.

“Do I feel good? Do you like being fucked by me?” Once he started with the dirty talk, he found it difficult to stop. He wanted to hear her affirmation of how fucking good they were together.

 _“Yes,_ Tony,” she moaned, settling so he was deep inside her, rubbing her clit rapidly. “I’m _so_ fucking close,” she whined, and he took matters into his own hands, pushing her hand out of the way so that he could touch her, his thumb circling around the sensitive spot between her legs, still thrusting rapidly into her, desperate to see her come.

A few well-placed strokes and she was, indeed coming, his name on her lips as she cried out, quivering above him, her walls contracting him so tightly that he cried out, his release shooting from him. _“F—fuck,_ Ziva,” he stuttered his brain barely capable of forming words as he fell, taking her with him into the pleasurable abyss.

She rode him through it, a few more strokes as she came down from her high, finally collapsing on top of him, her breath coming out unevenly against his chest. _“Fuck,”_ she breathed out slowly, shuddering against him and wrapping her arm tightly around him. Tony stroked lightly at her back as he held her, his breath finally slowing as she relaxed into him.

“I hope you don’t want to do any more training today,” Tony said once he caught his breath, “because I’m pretty sure I am not gonna be able to walk for a while.”

“Hmm,” she breathed, kissing his chest before speaking again. “Something must have really fucked you up.” He could sense the amusement in her voice, though he know that she had to be teasing, because she didn’t seem to be too keen on moving for a while, either.

 _“Fucked me_ is right,” he replied with a chuckle, running his fingers through her hair. He’d thought about being with Ziva – many times over the past several years, if he was being honest – but he’d never imagined it would be quite this intense.

“Well luckily for you,” she continued to tease, tracing her fingers through his chest hair, “your trainer seems to be out of commission for the next few hours, as well, so it looks like you get to have the day off.”

He grinned roguishly. “I wonder how I might possibly spend the time?” With Ziva naked in his arms, he’d be pretty much content to stay here for the rest of the day. And probably most of the night, as well. And maybe even tomorrow.

Ziva’s laughter rang out throughout the cabin. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she answered flirtatiously, propping herself up so that she could kiss him sweetly before settling back down against him and closing her eyes, wanting nothing more than to nap in the comfort of his arms.

* * *

McGee was exhausted.

Over the past few months, he and the team – including two new members who’d been called in to replace Tony and Ziva – had been working their normal case load. Gibbs had returned not long after the initial discovery that Tony and Ziva had left. He’d offered no explanation nor had McGee bothered to ask, and he’d simply accepted his job back and followed Gibbs’ lead. On top of his usual case load, he had been coming in early every morning and staying late every night to work on any leads he could as to the whereabouts of his missing friends.

He’d had Abby’s help, of course, but no one else was working on this particular case, a case that actually wasn’t a case and technically couldn’t tie up any official resources. And he was getting nowhere.

He rubbed his forehead as he stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him. It had been months now since Tony and Ziva had disappeared, and he’d gotten pretty much zero new information.

McGee sighed, looking at the clock. It wasn’t quite six in the morning yet. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself,” a voice behind him said quietly, and he turned around, seeing his boss standing with two cups of coffee. One for himself, naturally, and one he handed over to the younger agent. He took it with a tired nod of gratitude.

“They wouldn’t stop looking for me,” was his only response, but even now Tim realized that his words were beginning to sound hollow. Would they? After all this time?

“Not if they knew that you didn’t want to be found.”

McGee exhaled deeply, then took a long swig from his coffee. “So you’re saying I need to give up then? Let them go and hope for the best? Wonder forever if they’re alive?”

“I’m saying there’s nothing more you can do that you haven’t already done.” Gibbs took a sip of his own coffee, then started speaking again. “You’ve been very thorough, and you’ve turned up nothing. They planned it this way. You have to remember that this is what they wanted.”

Tim sighed, turning around and looking at his computer again. “But if I could just-”

“We can only assume that if the terrorists find them, they’ll be more than happy to let us know.” _Well_ that _was ominous_ , McGee thought to himself, but it wasn’t altogether inaccurate. Widow would surely contact them if they found and took care of Tony and Ziva. But what if it was the other way around? What if Widow found them, and Tony and Ziva took care of _them?_ Would they know how to contact the team, somehow get back home? Would they _want_ to come back home?

More than anything, Tim wished that he had been given even a sliver of information. Any sort of guidance as to what to do. The worrying was killing him. “So I’m just supposed to just stop,” he said, a statement more than a question, though he was most definitely asking for confirmation.

“I’m not saying don’t investigate if something new comes up. But you haven’t had anything new, have you?” Gibbs didn’t even need to ask the question, because of course he knew the answer. There was nothing new, nothing at all. Still, McGee shook his head no. “Then I need you to focus on the cases we _can_ make progress on.”

“Abby’s not gonna like that,” McGee argued, but he already knew that his case was weak. Sure, Gibbs had always had a soft spot for Abby, but that wasn’t going to be enough to convince him that they should continue to burn the candle at both ends looking for something that didn’t exist. They’d have better luck proving the existence of aliens.

“Contrary to what she may lead you to believe, she’s not in charge of this team.”

McGee took another long sip from his coffee, and shut down the laptop he’d been working on. Since he was technically off-book on this investigation, he’d taken to bringing his own personal laptop to work, which hadn’t really helped much since he couldn’t access the databases on it. Well, he _could,_ if he’d given himself some backdoor access, but he was already working well outside the parameters of legality at this point, so he chose not to push his luck.

At least he’d been able to make a bunch of spreadsheets. And lists.

He stuffed his laptop into his bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. It was still too early to be at work, but it wouldn’t make any sense for him to head home and then come back. “Anything you want me to work on?” He asked, hoping for something that might take his mind off of the fact that he was giving up on his friends.

 _No,_ he thought to himself. _Not giving up, just taking a break._ Gibbs was right. He’d gone over all of the information they had already. Multiple times. It was highly unlikely that he’d make some new discovery off of old information, one that would suddenly put all of the puzzle pieces into place and give him everything he had been wondering for the past few months.

For now, he had to let it go.

“File that paperwork on the Wilson case, like you should have last night.”

 _Shit._ He’d forgotten about that, in his haste to get back to looking for Tony and Ziva. “Right, boss.”

He followed his boss to the elevator and stepped in, gripping the coffee cup and anchoring himself to that. He was tired, more tired than he’d ever been, and he hadn’t seen it until just now. What possible use was he to his teammates right now? Both sets of teammates – Tony and Ziva, and the new team that he was still trying to adjust to?

The elevator dinged and opened up, and he stepped into the bullpen, seeing it differently than he had the day before. It was certainly still bereft of the two agents he’d considered his closest allies, but now, it was almost as if he’d walked into a new beginning. It was time for him to move on, to do what he could to help the people who both needed and asked for their help, and not continue to chase the ghosts of two agents who had neither asked for nor needed his assistance. He’d certainly jump up and give it if they somehow came back and asked for it, but he’d been giving too much of himself – and getting nothing in return.

He sighed, placing his bag down at his desk. He’d been feeling like a failure, but Gibbs was right. He wasn’t a failure, not by any means, it was just that his friends – Ziva, especially – were good at what they did. And he didn’t need to beat himself up over this anymore. “Boss?” he asked, knowing in his heart what he needed to do.

Gibbs looked up, giving him the permission to continue. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like when we apologize, but I’m sorry. I let the team down, and you’ve needed me. I’m here now. I’m focused.”

Fearing the reprimand – after all, he _had_ broken one of Gibbs’ rules, he sat and waited for the chastisement. None came, however, and Gibbs just looked at him with that steely gaze of his, and then nodded, accepting the apology.

McGee let out a breath and began to work.

* * *

It had been raining since early morning, which meant they’d spent the better part of their day inside the house instead of going out and wandering around the terrain.

They had plenty of food at this point, and while Ziva informed him that fishing in the rain was an entirely different experience than fishing any other time, Tony was content to stay dry for the day, pulling out a few pieces of scrap wood and spending some time putting together a makeshift chess board and pieces.

Once he’d finished, they’d spent the rest of the day playing chess, until Ziva had gotten bored of the game and decided to make some checkers pieces. They’d spent some time with checkers until both of them were bored of the board games, and they’d joked over lunch about how different rainy days were here than back home.

“This is movie marathon weather, I’m telling you!” Tony said insistently, apparently trying to convince her. His argument was compelling, she noted as she looked through the crack between the shutters, but she’d already agreed with him, and he was bordering on rant territory.

“And I would usually spend this time curled up with a good book. It seems neither of us are going to be able to spend a rainy day the way we are accustomed to, hmm?”

He noted her amused smile and played at being offended, but he wasn’t terribly bothered by her teasing anymore. Surely, they’d have to get used to rainy days in a place named after that particular brand of weather. “So it turns out we both enjoy some sort of storytelling escapism on rainy days. Maybe we should just tell each other some stories.”

“Can you _tell_ an original story? Or shall I listen with intent to guess which movie you borrowed your tale from?”

He stood up from his seat across from her at the table and sat down on the other side, next to her on the bench. “Tell you what,” he said, taking her hand in his, “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we just tell true stories. _Our_ stories.”

She furrowed her brow, confused. “You know my story.”

“Everything?”

Ziva swallowed, turning to look at him then. “There are surely some things you would not want to know.” Things about her time in the desert, yes, but also parts of her childhood and early adulthood that were better kept buried.

“How about we only tell each other what we’re comfortable with, and if we’re asked to drop a subject, we drop it. No questions asked.” If he was being honest with himself, there were some things he probably wouldn’t want to ask about, but he knew Ziva needed an out, a safety net, and he was always willing to give her one. “I’ll go first.”

“So what, do you want me to ask you something? Or are you just going to tell me something you want me to know?”

“I’ll tell you something. Then you’ll tell me something.” He turned slightly, bringing his right leg and leaning it on the bench between them. Ziva turned slightly, too, and waited for him to start. “Okay. So. My earliest friend was a girl who lived next door to our first house. We moved out of that house when I was five, so I know I was very young, but I have no idea how old I was when we were friends. I also don’t remember her name, only that she introduced herself to me as Peat Moss.”

“Who is Pete Moss?”

 _“What,_ not who. Peat moss is a type of soil fertilizer that you’d put over your grass or something to help it grow better.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know, honestly. I was never much of a gardener. Anyway, I guess her mom or her dad had been using the stuff while doing some landscaping and that’s what she called herself.”

“How can you call this person a friend if you cannot remember her name?”

“It was more than forty years ago, Ziva. The fact that I remember her at all should count for something.”

“So are you saying that in forty years you will have forgotten me?” She teased, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his, a slight smile gracing her lips. He tilted his head the rest of the way toward her, their lips meeting gently as she hummed against him.

“I don’t intend to be apart from you long enough to forget you,” was his response, and she surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him hungrily. Permanence in her life was fleeting, practically a myth. To imagine that any one person could willingly choose to be a part of her life as Tony was implying made her feel… she didn’t know, but she needed to show him, in some way, that his words meant something.

Ziva reached up and caressed his cheek, running her thumb along his jawline and finally sliding it between their lips, pulling apart, a shiver running through her as he kissed her thumb. “So it is my turn?” Her words were spoken softly, breathlessly, and Tony nodded slightly, placing another light kiss on the thumb that was still lightly teasing at his lip. “My first day of preschool, there was a boy who was sitting apart from the group. Our teacher was about to read us some story. I decided to get the boy, who looked very angry, and have him join our group. I asked him to join us and he smacked me, in the face.”

Tony gasped, leaning back with his jaw hanging open in mock horror. “Shut up. Anyway, after that, I punched him. Knocked him out. They called an ambulance and I never saw the kid again.”

“What happened to you?”

Ziva leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion again. Tony wondered if a single day would go by where he wouldn’t confuse her somehow. A part of him really hoped not. “What do you mean? Nothing. He was out cold, he could not have hit me back.”

“I mean, did you get in trouble?”

A smile crept onto her face as she began to understand his meaning – a somewhat wicked, mischievous smile. “Well you can imagine, with a father who was working for Mossad, I did not have to worry much about that. When I explained that he had hit me first, my father told the teacher that I had just been defending myself.” She laughed, recalling the way he’d come to her defense. It was almost bittersweet, considering their strained relationship, in the end. “They were upset because I had knocked him out. Not because he could have been injured, but because I was a girl, and it would hurt him emotionally a lot more than it would physically. My father later told me he was proud of me, and he asked me if I wanted to join Mossad some day.”

“How old were you?”

Her face turned serious, earnest. “I was three. Of course, I was my father’s pride and joy, and I wanted nothing more than to follow in his footsteps. That may have been the first time my father viewed me as an asset rather than a daughter.”

“And here I thought you would have some normal childhood stories to tell.”

“It never occurred to me that my childhood was not normal.”

Tony mulled over that for a few minutes. What was “normal,” anyway? Normal was what a person made it, or what they believed it was. Ziva had grown up in a household with her family – her parents, half-brother, and sister. He’d also grown up with his family, though he hadn’t had any siblings. She had gone to school, just like he had. She’d gotten into her fair share of childhood scuffles, just like he had, though he was fairly sure that Ziva had gotten into more fights than he had. Not that he’d been afraid to defend himself if necessary, he was just fairly certain at this point that she had been the more violent of the two of them, just judging by his own personal experience. “I guess it wouldn’t, huh?”

“Tell me another story about your childhood, Tony. Maybe I can compare my abnormal childhood with your normal one,” she teased, and he stuck out his tongue at her, eliciting a laugh.

He laughed back, enjoying this new, lighter space between them. He couldn’t remember a time when she had actually stuck her tongue out at him before, and despite their ability to tease each other over the past several years, this was a much lighter, freer side to their relationship.

“Let’s see…” he thought for a second, trying to decide what morsel he’d tell her this time. “I broke my leg when I was eight,” he began, and she scoffed, looking at him like she was completely unimpressed.

“So? Everyone breaks a bone when they’re a child.”

Tony grinned, shaking his head. He’d almost been expecting that. “Ahh, but you don’t know how I did it now, do you?” She shook her head, and he continued. “So I had these friends in my neighborhood, all roughly my age. There were the twins, Rob and Ryan, their sister, whose name I can’t remember, Jordan, Eric, and Matt and his older brother Mark.” He looked at her pointedly. “See? I remembered most of _their_ names. Anyway, we were always getting into stuff, running around the neighborhood and between each other’s back yards, catching toads and snakes and playing street hockey. The normal stuff, right?” Ziva nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Well, one day we got this brilliant idea to have a bike race down the neighboring street, which had a pretty substantial hill – at least it seemed like it was pretty big at the time. But we didn’t have just any bike race. See, we decided we were going to build a ramp.”

“Oh, no,” Ziva groaned, already certain of where the story was headed.

“Yeah,” he agreed, grimacing at the memory of it. “So we got an old plywood board and some cinder blocks and build up this ramp. It was awesome, at least to look at. We couldn’t possibly foresee what could go wrong with this plan.” His tone had taken on an air of sarcasm, one that caused Ziva to smile with amusement.

“So we fought about who would go first, each of us having one reason or another why _he_ should be the one, and finally we had an epic rock-paper-scissors battle, which I finally won. It must have taken forever. Come to think of it, I’m surprised no cars came down the street during this whole process, but it must have just been luck. Or un-luck, if you will.”

“So I’ve got my bike, and I’m feeling like the king of the hill at that point. Mind you, this was back in the seventies, when we didn’t wear elbow pads and helmets, but no one even _considered_ it. Anyway, my friends are all standing on the sideline, cheering me on enviously, waiting their turn for what would surely be the greatest bike ride we’d ever been on. I felt like Evil Kenevil.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Evil what?”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” he joked, but noted her expression. “I’ll explain in a minute – I wanna finish my story.” She shrugged slightly, indicating that he should keep going.

“So anyway, I hop on my bike and I get a head start from a little bit further back – really trying to get myself up to speed, right? And by the time I hit the top of the hill I could just coast at top speed downward, not thinking anything. I just remember the feel of the wind in my hair as I sped along, ready to hit that ramp and go flying and land like the king I was.”

“But that did not happen, obviously,” she cut in, and he smiled sheepishly.

“No, it did not,” he agreed. “Oh, I went flying all right, as soon as I hit the board, but I didn’t get very far. Maybe four, five feet in the air, tops. And then my bicycle started to tilt downward, and suddenly my face was planted in the asphalt and my leg was twisted horribly – or so they say, because I couldn’t see it – and all I remember was pain.” He rubbed his leg unconsciously, reliving the memory.

“Then suddenly my mother was screaming and other mothers were screaming and people were asking what we were _thinking_ and we could have been _killed_ and I’m sure they called for an ambulance or something but the next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital with my leg in a cast. My mom told me she would have smacked the daylights out of me if she didn’t think I’d already suffered enough.”

Ziva shook her head as she listened, amazed at what he’d told her. “That’s not a true story, is it?”

“On my life, I swear it is. You could ask my dad. Well, if we ever see him again, I guess,” he said, his mood turning somber. How _was_ his dad doing?

Neither of them spoke for a minute, as they remembered all of the people they’d left behind. It wasn’t often that Ziva spent any amount of time worrying about the others, but every once in a while, she wondered about them. Surely they would understand, wouldn’t they? “I suppose it is my turn,” she said after several moments, knowing the exact thing she would tell Tony about. “But first, you must tell me who this Evil Weevil person is.”

“Evil Kenevil, Ziva, my god. He was a famous stuntman. He didn’t always make his jumps, but he was just so _cool._ Everyone wanted to do the stuff he did.”

“I don’t suppose he ever told his fans not to try this stuff at home?”

Tony cringed, realizing he’d been caught. “He did. I didn’t listen.”

“Then you have no one but yourself to blame,” she chided, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

He leaned back, his jaw dropping in surprise. “Like you’ve never done anything you shouldn’t have. Come on, out with it. Tell me a story of when you got in trouble.”

“The story of me smacking a kid in pre-school wasn’t enough for you?”

“You just got done telling me you didn’t get in trouble for that,” he retorted.  

“If my father hadn’t been who he was, I would have. And _did_ you get in trouble for making a homemade bike ramp and causing yourself bodily harm? Because I would think that the trip to the hospital alone was enough of a punishment.”

“Fine, then tell me about a time you got hurt.”

“Do you really want to go there?” Tony sobered up quickly at her words. Surely, she knew that he was asking about her childhood, and not anything that had happened to her in recent history, right? Even so, did he really want to open up the Pandora’s Box of childhood wounds, both physical and emotional? At least his story had been funny.

Tony sighed, then shrugged. “I did say we’d share what we were comfortable with, so why don’t you tell me anything you like?” Ziva smiled, glad, for the moment, that painful topics were off the table. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did, but she just didn’t want to turn such a lighthearted and fun evening into something so serious and potentially heavy.

He settled back against the wall, inviting her to come and sit beside him, and she got up from where she had been sitting and joined him, her shoulder overlapping his just slightly. “I’m going to tell you the time that Ari, Tali, and I managed to escape from the neighbor’s mean dog.”

“A dog? Really?”

“You have to understand this dog, Tony. It was big. And mean. The dog would growl and bark and snarl at everything that ever crossed its path. If a spider decided to spin a web nearby, the entire neighborhood would know about it. Even the great, powerful Eli did not wish to deal with that dog. I think it was a Doberman, but it does not matter. What matters is that the dog was vicious.”

“More vicious than your father? Are you sure that’s a thing?” Ziva glared at him and Tony shrugged.

“Believe it or not, when we were children, Eli was quite the doting father.” She paused, her expression momentarily wistful. A lot had changed with her father over the years, and she’d never be able to go back and undo what had already been done. “But that is a story for another time.”

“Okay,” he agreed, turning his head to listen to her.

“So the dog, somehow it got loose. I’ll never know how, because I wasn’t exactly standing nearby when it happened, but Tali and I were playing in the yard and suddenly we heard growling, and we both froze, because we knew the sound of pure evil when we heard it. It was the dog, and it was staring at us from the road, which wasn’t that far away. About from the house to the stream,” she said, pointing lazily in the direction of the stream.

“Tali looked at me, and then I looked at Tali, and we both kind of panicked. We were convinced that the dog would eat us if it was ever given the chance, and neither of us really wanted to be a dog meal, so without a word, we took off running in the opposite direction, into a small wooded area behind our house. Ari was in the back working on building what he called a treehouse – he’d never, ever, forgive me if he heard me say that it just looked like a mess of boards nailed to a dying tree, but it _was –_ and we told him that the dog was loose, and his eyes went wide. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw that the dog was chasing us, and then we were scrambling up the tree, as high as we could possibly get, and this stupid dog was just sitting there underneath us, growling and barking up a storm because it couldn’t get at us.”

“Tali started to cry, and Ari and I had to try to comfort her, but the truth was, we didn’t know when we’d be able to come down, either. We must have only been up there for a few minutes, but it seemed like so _long.”_ She paused, shuddering at the memory. It was the first time she had truly ever been afraid for her life, and one of the only times she’d ever run away from any sort of danger and not toward it. The fact that she’d felt that level of fear at all had been the push she’d needed to learn how to defend herself, and she’d soon enrolled in martial arts training alongside her dance lessons.

“It couldn’t have been that long, but one of the teenage kids from down the street obviously heard the commotion – that stupid dog was so loud, half of Israel could probably hear it. Well, this kid came by, I remember his name was Ben, with an ice cream cone in one hand and a squirt gun in the other. And he just walked up and started spraying the dog with it.”

“And wouldn’t you know it? It was the strangest thing I’d ever witnessed, but the dog just kind of trotted off. We never saw the thing again. Maybe the neighbors had gotten tired of all the complaints and gotten rid of it, or maybe it had run away. We never knew. But the dog ran off, the three of us got down out of the tree, and Ben went off with his ice cream cone without saying a word.”

“Weird,” Tony said, more for his own amusement, but Ziva nodded in agreement.

“It made me realize that I didn’t want to be the type of person to run away from things. So I asked my father, and I was signed up for fighting lessons the next day.” It was funny, she realized, to think about how such a silly incident in her life shaped who she was so thoroughly. She could have made an entirely different choice and become an entirely different person.

“And now you’re teaching me,” he replied, turning and kissing her lightly on the lips.

She listened to the rain for a second, still pounding heavily outside. “Well, not in this weather,” she answered with a slight smile, turning her head just enough to meet him halfway, their lips meeting in a soft kiss.

“I kinda like this rainy weather,” he murmured against her lips, and before she could voice her agreement, he had pressed his mouth against hers again, kissing her hungrily.

But if she was being honest, she was beginning to, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve liked this chapter. All of the childhood stories from this chapter are true stories of my own childhood, even the bike ramp one – but that one did not actually result in a broken bone, just a lot of bruises and scrapes. Look for Chapter 8 on Monday.


	8. No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the terrorists of Widow for the first time as Tony and Ziva grow even closer.

“So you mean to tell me,” Rafi Aman said, his anger rising as he spoke, “that Ziva David has vanished from the face of the earth with her partner, leaving not a trace?”

The three men who stood before him looked around nervously, unsure who should bear the brunt of Aman’s anger. They’d been so sure that Ziva would be an easy target now that she’d left her job at NCIS, but she had outsmarted them and gone underground at the earliest opportunity, and she’d done it _well._

When none of his lieutenants spoke, Aman pounded his fist on the desk, leaning forward in anger. “You _knew_ she was trained by Mossad! You shouldn’t have waited as long as you did!”

“We are using every available resource to find her,” the operative named Daniel spoke, hoping to at least reign in some of their leader’s anger. “And the American,” he added as an afterthought, though he wasn’t sure whether their boss cared about the location of the American who had gone with her.

Technically, they were _both_ Americans, but no one wanted to bring that up and risk more of Aman’s wrath. He liked to throw things. Pointy things.

“That’s _not good enough,”_ screamed the mastermind, his anger only intensifying. “She took out one of our own. It is not enough to let the American government deal with her. They will let her get away with it, and she must pay for what she has done. And so must this other agent, this ‘DiNozzo,’ for helping her. Find them, and _make them suffer!”_

The other three again looked at each other nervously, doubtful of their chances of success. “We are looking,” said Tamir, the youngest of the three, “but there are a lot of places she could be. She left no trace.”

He pounded on the desk so forcefully that many of the items atop it jumped in response. “Of _course_ she left no trace! She is trained to leave no trace, you blithering moron!”

“Boss,” started the third man, a dark-skinned man named Levi, trying to get him to see reason.

“Do not address me until you _find_ Ziva David! They are on this planet somewhere, and we will not rest until she is dead, _do you understand me?”_

“What do you expect us to do? Fly over every last inch of land and sea until we find them?” Daniel had meant it as a joke, certain that their superior wouldn’t want to spend millions on locating them by literally scouring the globe.

“If you have to,” Aman said, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing. _“You,”_ he pointed at Levi, who gulped as he tried not to let the boss intimidate him, “are trained to fly helicopters, are you not? The two of you,” he added, pointing to the other men, “can go along with him looking for anything out of the ordinary. I _do not care,_ as long as she is found!”

Levi was the first to speak, his eyes shifting nervously as he did so. “There are other options.” He didn’t want to say it, but his boss was completely insane if he thought they should cover every last bit of ground on the planet in search of two people.

“Oh _really?”_ Aman pounded his desk again, leaning forward in his seat and raising his eyebrows as he waited for his operative to continue. “Enlighten me.”

“She was Mossad, as you said. There must be someone there with whom she has made contact. Someone who would know how she thinks, where she would go.” It was a long shot, sure, but before he was sent out to fly to the literal ends of the earth, up and down longitude lines looking for Ziva David, he wanted to exhaust every possible avenue, or at least narrow down the search a bit. The world was large, and he didn’t relish the idea of combing through every inch of it for someone who didn’t want to be found. There was something like seven _billion_ people on the planet. Finding them, regardless of locale, would be nearly impossible if they truly wished to disappear.

Tamir spoke up then, offering his knowledge of Mossad. He had not been a former Mossad officer, but had kept several contacts in the agency, before many of them had perished in the line of duty. “Mossad trains their people to think on their own, to keep their tactics close to the vest. It would not be advisable.” 

“I _know,”_ Levi continued, glaring at Tamir, “but maybe she has said _something_ to one of them, something that would give us a clue. The people at the American agency no doubt already have noticed their absence and are looking for them, as well. We may want to keep an eye on them.”

“You are saying that we should spy on an American federal agency? When all of us are already on government watch lists?” It was Daniel who spoke this time, with an air of incredulity. The Americans would not waste any time in nuking an entire country out of orbit if they thought there was any sort of active threat against their own. All four of them hated dealing with Americans more than any other nationality, because the Americans were concerned with none but themselves first, and their allies later.  

The fact that Ziva David was now one of them had made it even more crucial that they find her and eliminate her.

“We have contacts who aren’t on the watch lists,” he reminded them, though they knew they would have to be careful. It didn’t take much these days, not since bin Laden’s people had carried out their attack. Enacting any sort of foreign operations on American soil had gotten a whole lot more difficult, though Aman had admired the man’s style. Four airplanes and thousands of Americans killed. That had been a good day, in his book.

“Chase down whatever leads you can. You have one month to get as much intel on Ziva David and her American accomplice as possible. After that, you _will_ search the whole of this planet until you find them, and you will bring them to _me. I will enjoy killing them both.”_

Three heads nodded in unison, neither wanting to speak up and risk saying something that would even further agitate Rafi Aman. If he wanted to kill Ziva David himself, it must be really personal, and neither of the three men he addressed in that moment wanted to interfere with that. He’d been a ruthless assassin back in his day, but now he preferred to get other men to do his bidding, men who followed the same ideals as he had. Ilan Bodnar had been one of his best operatives, paid well to carry out the murder of former Mossad Director Eli David.

Rafi Aman hadn’t counted on Ziva David’s desire for vengeance, not after hearing so many tell him how “soft” she’d become. He’d been both surprised and infuriated by her ability to take out one of his best. “Ziva David is not just any Mossad operative. She may have left the agency to become an American, but mark my words, she is every bit as ruthless as her bastard of a father. She is a greater threat to what we stand for than anyone else on this planet. I want her found.”

He put out the cigarette he’d been smoking, pushing it harshly into the ashtray in front of him. “Do you understand me?”

All three of his operatives nodded silently, and Aman dismissed them from his sight.

* * *

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed fishing this much. Maybe not since he was a boy. But now, with Ziva sitting comfortably on the log beside him, her toes dipping leisurely into the stream as she fiddled with the line from which a worm dangled, he found that fishing was really kind of a great way to spend a morning.

They’d only caught two, but it really didn’t matter all that much. They had plenty of food, thanks to Ziva’s prowess as a hunter. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear that she had stepped right out of some early colonial story where a mysterious woman teaches a clueless colonist how to live off the land.

It wasn’t too far off from the truth.

He felt a tug at his line and began to pull on it, lifting up slightly to set the hook as Ziva had shown him to do. They obviously hadn’t had any modern fishing hooks with them, so they’d had to improvise, and tugging the line just slightly would help ensure that any fish would stay hooked as they pulled them in.

“Have something?” she asked, turning her head with interest as she watched him work the line, pulling slowly, working the fight out of the fish on the other end of it.

“I might,” he responded, concentrating on bringing in his line. It sure felt like something was hooked and pulling against him, but he’d pulled in several things that were _not_ fish already over the past few days, and he didn’t want to assume anything.

Ziva watched him with interest, waiting patiently as he continued to pull his line in, enjoying the deft way his fingers moved over the line. She wasn’t quite sure when she started to notice the way his fingers moved, perhaps not since they’d first become intimate, but now whenever she watched him use his hands for anything, she felt herself flush at the memory of the way his hands felt, touching and caressing and exploring her intimately.

She wondered if that feeling of anticipation would ever go away. Time was funny out here, and it had been at least weeks, if not months since their first time, and she still got a shock of excitement whenever she thought about him touching her.

A splash drew her from her reflection, and she watched Tony’s smile light up his face when he realized that he had, in fact, caught a fish. She had never been one to consider him “cute,” and if she’d been asked to describe him over the years she’d known him, that wouldn’t have been an adjective she’d have chosen, but now, she couldn’t get over how cute he looked as he proudly held up his catch. He looked like a boy who had never caught a fish before, showing it off for the first time.

She absolutely adored him, and the realization struck her so soundly that she nearly had to sit back down with the force of it. She was in love with him. This adorable man who had willingly followed her into the depths of the unknown for at least the tenth time had completely and irrevocably stolen her heart.

He beamed as he tied the fish off, prepping his line for another catch. If he showed any indication that he knew what she was thinking, he didn’t show it as he leaned forward and kissed her softly. Ziva leaned into the kiss, trying not to think about the way her heart fluttered in her chest at the contact. Sure, they had kissed many times before, but now that she knew that she loved him, it seemed different somehow. Could he tell? Hadn’t the universe shifted in some cosmic way?

He sat back down, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her against him. “This is the life,” he sighed happily, and Ziva couldn’t help but agree with his statement.

“A year ago, you would have complained about getting your new shoes dirty on a case,” she pointed out dryly, and she felt him shrug against her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to speak. Now, he was wearing a pair of shoes he’d made – with her help, a pair of comfortable moccasins that were surprisingly sturdy and comfortable. The sneakers he’d worn when they’d come here were still serviceable, but they would wear out eventually. These shoes definitely left more breathing room for his feet, and they’d last, too.

“A year ago, I didn’t have _this,”_ he said, giving her a slight squeeze. Her heart skipped a beat at the admission, and she wondered again if he somehow could read her thoughts.

Ziva sighed against him, pulling her own fishing line in from the water and wrapping it around her fishing pole. They didn’t really need to fish anymore today. “I have to admit, I am surprised at how well you’ve adjusted to this type of life.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” he said, shrugging again.

“That’s not exactly true,” she mused, and he pulled back slightly, causing her to turn her head and look up at him. “I gave you more than one opportunity to back out and not come with me. You are the one who stubbornly insisted that you follow me.”

He sighed, chuckling as he exhaled, tying the now-deceased fish off on an overhanging branch and setting it back in the water so it wouldn’t spoil in the heat. It would attract predators before long, but they didn’t need to cut it up just yet. “You agreed with me, though. Especially when I said that they’d make me their next target if they couldn’t find you.” She shuddered, refusing to think about what might have happened if she’d come here by herself. Many things would be different, sure, but one thing was for certain – she never would have been able to erase her worry about him from her mind. At least this way, she knew that he was safe.

Safe _and_ in her arms. Even better.

“We may not get to go back, Tony. We may just have to live out here.” She paused, gulping before speaking again. “Die out here.”

“Not for a long time though,” he mused, planting a kiss to the top of her hair. They could survive out here indefinitely, barring something major happening, like a forest fire. _That_ was a new worry she had never considered, but it wasn’t like there were droves of tourists coming through and starting campfires in their neck of the woods. Besides, they didn’t exactly call their locale a _rain_ forest for nothing.

They sat together for a bit, Ziva with her head leaning against Tony’s shoulder, and Tony with his arm around her waist. Sitting near the water was calming, and they watched the minnows scooting around the shallow stream, laughing at their rapid movements.

It was quiet, and the breeze was beginning to pick up. Tony was the first to break the silence when he asked, “Do you think about going back?”

She was surprised less by the question and more by her reaction to it. She realized that no, she hadn’t really thought about going back. This was just her life now. _Their_ life. The two of them had carved out a life in one of the most remote parts of the world, and she couldn’t even imagine it changing anymore. “No,” she replied truthfully.

“I do, a little,” he said, taking her hand in his and linking their fingers. “I wonder what it would be like to walk back into the bullpen, holding your hand like this, and trying to go back to the way things were before we came out here. Before we had to work for our own food, and we were always so caught up in everything else. When life was noisy and busy. Not like this. I mean yeah, we’re busy sometimes, but it’s a different _kind_ of busy.”

Ziva didn’t respond right away, so he kept speaking, angling toward her as she sat up, watching his expression. “And going back to the way _we_ were before? I can’t see it. If we have to go back to that, then let’s just stay out here.”

“Tony,” she breathed, a slight smile spreading across her face. He had this way of being so unintentionally sweet when he was hardly trying to, and this was no exception. She leaned toward him again, kissing him softly, nuzzling her forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. Again, she felt her heart jump at the way he looked at her, his gaze adoring and entirely enamored. “Even if we went back,” she said softly, her words hanging closely in the air between them, “we could never go _back.”_

“We’d have to live together,” he agreed, and she laughed, knowing that it was the truth. They were just so _used_ to being around each other now that it would be odd to spend a night alone in a bed without him. Or to wake up in the morning and not share breakfast. Whether it was freshly caught fish or roasted fowl or something more traditional like pancakes and bacon, the idea of waking up and not having Tony there with her to share their morning meal just didn’t make sense anymore.

“Outside the city,” she added. Although their cabin was small, the thought of having actual neighbors again was really unappealing.

“With a pond in our backyard for fishing.”

“And a fireplace.”

“No phones.”

“Well not if we go back to working for Gibbs,” she acquiesced. He grinned then, pulling her forward and into a tight hug, his arms wrapping snugly around her waist as she clung to him. There was something about being pressed against him, her whole body enveloped in his arms, which made her feel a warmth unlike any other she had ever felt. It was as if his mere embrace chased all of her demons away, all of her fears and doubts, and she felt nothing but safe and loved and cherished.

How could she _ever_ go back to a time when she did not know this type of comfort?

She breathed in the moment, kissing him on the neck as she pulled away, their bodies still pressed together as she leaned back and met his eyes again. “A lot would change if we went back, Tony, but one thing wouldn’t,” she spoke, her pulse quickening as she realized where she was going with this. Was it too soon? Would he be ready for this? Was _she_ ready for this?

“And what’s that?” he asked, his smile expectant, hopeful even.

She smiled back, her eyes glinting with happiness. “The way I feel about you,” she answered, shrieking with surprise as he surged forward and practically attacked her mouth with his own, devouring her with his lips, his jaw flexing as he worked his entire mouth into the motion. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and she nearly struggled to keep up, her heart pounding erratically in her chest as she moved against him, pouring her heart into the embrace.

She was spinning, falling, careening wildly out of control. She clung to him desperately, needing him as her anchor, powerless against the onslaught of the waves of emotion that crashed against her. She tasted rather than heard his groan into her mouth and she swallowed his desire, allowing it to settle deep within her, held tight to _this_ as he gave her his heart and soul, nothing between them but longing. When they finally stopped kissing, breathless and panting, she breathed the words she’d meant to say before he’d consumed her wholly. “I love you.”

Tony surged forward again. If she’d thought the last embrace was intense, then this one was beyond words. He growled against her, claiming her roughly, pulling her tightly to him and tasting her greedily. _Mine,_ he seemed to be saying, and she couldn’t help but agree. She was his, body and soul, heart and mind. She panted for breath as he held her, gasping a strangled, _“Tony,”_ against his mouth. The intensity was all-consuming, and for a moment, she wasn’t entirely sure they hadn’t completely fused to each other, so uncertain of where he ended and she began.

He yanked away from her abruptly, catching her gaze. “God almighty, Ziva, _I love you too,”_ he growled, and crashed forward and into her arms again, kissing her hungrily. This time, however, he kissed her slowly, deeply; his tongue exploring slowly and almost reverently. _So this is what it’s like,_ she thought to herself as she kissed him back, her mouth moving against his greedily, _to be the woman he loves?_ She breathed with him as he held her, their mouths meeting over and over again, time suspended as only they existed only for each other.

* * *

They lay facing each other, their limbs entangled on the bed, lost in each other’s gaze as they breathed together. “You really love me?” Tony asked, his eyes honest, afraid, and needy as he waited, waited for the words that would crush him, for the disdainful laugh that she would let out as she crushed his soul.

It didn’t come. “I really love you,” she replied softly, reassuringly. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, simple kiss to his lips, reveling in the warmth of his lips as she nibbled lightly on his bottom one before drawing back. “I have never loved anyone more.”

“God, Ziva,” he choked out, and her heart wrenched at the way his eyes glistened, the tear that hovered at the corner of his eye. She hadn’t known it was possible for Tony to cry, and yet there he was, inches from her, their bodies and hearts entwined, and he had tears in his eyes at the admission that she loved him. Desperately, almost painfully so.

She lifted her hand from where it had been resting on his back and wiped away the tear, lovingly caressing his face as she did so. “None of that,” she breathed with a slight smile. “I am not going anywhere.”

“It’s not that,” he said, taking a deep breath and gathering his thoughts. How could he explain what he was feeling? The raw emotion that had caused him, for the first time in – well, he had no idea how long, actually – to tear up? He was terrified at the depth of his feelings for this woman. He had suspected that he cared for her for quite some time, long before he’d come with her here, but he’d never known that he could feel this heart-wrenchingly and overwhelmingly consumed by a need to be loved by her, to be the one she chose, despite everything. “I just…” he paused, taking a breath and swallowing another lump building in his throat. “I just wanted it – for you to love me, for you to be the one who chose me – so _bad.”_

She leaned forward again, kissing him gently, their lips moving slowly against each other’s. Their kiss was languid, slow and deep as they lay against each other, almost lazy in its softness. When they finally pulled apart, only to kiss again, softly, briefly, she hummed contentedly against his mouth before responding. “I’m choosing you, Tony. I would have chosen you even if we were not isolated from the rest of the world.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t just some ‘last man on earth’ thing,” he joked, though Ziva felt the tension leaving his shoulders and neck as he spoke, obviously relieved.

“We would have happened anyway,” she assured him, and she realized then just how true it was. When her father had been killed, she’d relied on him more than anyone, and he’d been there for her in every possible way. He was the one person she shared her the most private of thoughts with, including memories of Tali – something she _never_ talked about, with anyone. They’d only grown closer, and even after she’d slept with Adam, which had been completely meaningless but had ended up hurting Tony the same, she’d begun to realize just how much he cared for her.

She just hadn’t known how to proceed. “What about that talk of friendship?” he asked. She remembered that conversation, outside Gibbs’ cabin. Had she been told then she’d be living in a similar one with Tony less than a year later, she’d have never believed it.

“I was not ready then,” she said softly, her words barely audible as a low rumble sounded in the distance. It wasn’t terribly unusual for evening thunderstorms to roll in, and they’d found their house to hold up quite well under the onslaught.

The wind picked up, and she shivered against him. Tony wrapped his arms around her, pulling the sleeping bag up to their shoulders, stifling a yawn. “I was willing to wait for you,” he responded, nuzzling his nose into her neck, causing her to suck in a breath at the way his scruff tickled against her cheek. “Not sure if you noticed this,” he continued, speaking quietly, whispering it like a secret into her neck, “but I really stopped hooking up with women in the last year or so. I…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure if he could admit what he was about to say, despite the fact that they were being so open with each other right now.

“You?”

“I… wanted to change. I wanted to show you that I could be the man you needed, especially after everything that happened with Ray.” He paused, swallowing hard, but knowing that he had to continue, for his own sake, at least. “I was such a jerk, both to him – although that was _totally_ justified, looking back – and to you, but I just didn’t know what to do … how to deal with the idea of you … not being … _mine._

“And I had no _right_ to be possessive of you, I knew that. And I knew you would have pummeled me if you caught even the slightest whiff of how I felt, or why I was acting the way I was. So on the outside I was trying to act like I was happy for you and being supportive while on the inside I wanted nothing more than to enlist Abby to help me kill him – leaving no forensic evidence, of course – and hide the body.”

“Looking back, that would have saved me a lot of trouble,” she replied with a smirk, and Tony knew that all was forgiven. “But I don’t want to talk about Ray, Tony,” she said softly, her tone serious again. “I made the right choice, in the end.”

He squeezed her waist, pulling her closer to him. “I’m so glad that _I’m_ your right choice.”

“Well I meant _then,”_ she replied, her tone only half-teasing. “I made the choice for myself, because marrying him would have been a huge mistake.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath as she pushed the painful memory away. “But really, can we change the subject? Or would you like to talk about all of the past relationship mistakes _you_ have made?”

“So how do you think the Buckeyes are doing this year?” Ziva felt rather than saw him grin. “I wonder how far into football season we are, actually,” he mused, his voice becoming pensive in the darkness, just as a flash of lightning illuminated the cabin for a split second.

She knew he must be missing his modern amenities again, despite his attempts to convince her otherwise. She’d never been a huge fan of American football, but she understood how important it had been to so many of her friends. “We do kind of let time slip away from us here, don’t we?” It was odd how quickly the lack of adequate time and date-keeping had become so normal to them, but there hadn’t really been any practical way to mark the passage of time. Were they to chisel out a tally into one of the nearby stones? And even if they did decide to do that, how would they even determine what month it was, let alone the exact date? How many months, exactly, had they been here? Would they notice the passing of a year?

Tony seemed to be thinking along similar lines. “Maybe we need to do something like those ancient civilizations, and look at the placement of the moon to try to figure out what the date is, and then build our own Stonehenge.” Another flash of lightning lit up their dwelling, followed shortly by a loud crack of thunder that startled him enough that he jerked slightly.

“That’s actually not a bad idea, honestly. Well, not the Stonehenge part. We don’t exactly want to draw attention to ourselves. But at the very least, we could probably make some sort of sundial, which would at least give us a way to keep track of the time of day.” Ziva was in planning mode again, he could feel it, but he let her think for a moment before responding. The skies seemed to open up then, the rain falling down in torrents against the roof and the ground outside as the storm moved fully on top of them. If it was anything like the others, it wouldn’t last too long.

“I mean, is it so hard to know what time of day it is? We wake up in the morning, it gets hot as all hell around midday, and then it starts to get darker and we know it’s evening.”

Another loud crack of thunder sounded, startling her this time. “You were the one complaining about not knowing _when_ it was. I was merely offering a suggestion.”

Tony knew that she was playing at being offended, but he indulged her regardless. “We can build one, if you want. I’m interested to see how you’d do it. Or did you also learn how to create the ‘Ultra Sundial-o-matic’ in Mossad, too?” he teased.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” she breathed, leaning forward to kiss him as the sky lit up again, taking a sharp nibble out of his bottom lip as she pulled away, “because it keeps me from wanting to stab you.” The crash of thunder that sounded completed her threat, causing him to shudder for just a brief moment before recovering.

“That is far from the only reason I’m lucky,” he replied, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. She sighed contentedly, her body melting against his, and she closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by the sounds of the thunderstorm outside as he held her close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love on this. Please let me know what you think. Chapter 9 will be up on Friday.


	9. Expecting the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim comforts Abby after a terrible nightmare, and Tony and Ziva deal with a new challenge.

Tim was aware of a dull, rhythmic thudding, but only barely. He shifted against the sound, a warm cocoon of blankets keeping him from returning immediately to consciousness.

Next to him, Delilah stirred, and he finally came to the realization that the pounding had not been something of a dream, but that it was real, loud, and rather insistent, and coming from the door of his apartment.

Finally cracking one eye open, he looked at the digital clock sitting on his bedside table, his eyes still hazy and unfocused after being roused from what had been a rather deep sleep. It was 2:24, and he immediately was overwhelmed by the sense that something was terribly wrong.

“What-” Delilah mumbled, but he ran his hand through her hair, shushing her.

“I’ll see who it is,” he mumbled groggily. “Go back to sleep.” She seemed to obey, for the time being, her eyes drifting closed again as he slid out of the bed, his sock-covered feet padding noisily through the bedroom and out toward the doorway.

He grabbed his gun just in case, but when he peeped through the eye hole, he saw none other than Abby bathed in the dim, buzzing light of the apartment complex corridor. _What_ was she doing here? He set his weapon back down on the table by the door and opened up, his expression far more weary than should be allowed for greeting a friend of so many years.

Her hair was uncharacteristically down, and she stood with her arms crossed nervously around her torso, her eyes darting nervously from side to side. “Abs?” he asked for an explanation. “I was sleeping.”

“I had a nightmare, Timmy,” she responded, pushing her way into the apartment, leaving him standing behind her to close the door, lest every bug in the greater DC area end up in his apartment.

“Do you know what time it is?”

She ignored him, her panic palpable as she paced through his living room. He was reasonably certain she had no idea what time it was, nor the fact that his girlfriend was sleeping in the other room. “It was Tony and Ziva!” She said, her voice elevating as she relayed her panic. “They were shipped back to us, piece by piece. We’d get arms, then legs. And … the rest. It’s too awful for me to repeat! And I was crying – hysterical – and you couldn’t comfort me, and neither could Gibbs, because our friends were _dead!_ They were _dead,_ and we couldn’t save them!”

Tim had to admit, despite his earlier annoyance at Abby showing up unannounced in the middle of the night, that the nightmare sounded awful. He’d been having similar fears. Despite doing all he could do in the face of his former colleagues having disappeared without a trace, he’d been plagued with worries that it wouldn’t be enough, that they wouldn’t find them in time.

“Shh, Abs. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” he said, pulling her into a hug, despite his better judgment. Delilah wasn’t a jealous woman, and she knew Abby pretty well at this point, but it still would not win him any favors to be comforting another woman in the middle of the night.

“No it wasn’t, Timmy!” She raised her voice, and Tim heard the shuffle of Delilah getting out of bed, obviously wanting to see what was going on for herself. “We _can’t_ do anything for them, and they _could_ be dead somewhere, without us ever knowing it! How do you _know_ it wasn’t real?”

Tim sighed, rubbing his forehead between his thumb and fingers. Abby was inconsolable, and he didn’t know what to do. He caught Delilah’s eye over the shoulder of his sobbing friend, and she nodded in understanding. Of course Delilah knew what had happened, and that they’d been told to stop overworking themselves. This wasn’t the first time Abby had told him of her nightmares, but it was the first time she’d come over in the middle of the night seeking comfort.

“Abby, I think you need to talk to someone about this. Someone who can help you work through your emotions,” Delilah suggested softly, and Abby opened her eyes wide, just now realizing that she and Tim were not alone in his apartment.

“Oh, I had no _idea_ you were here! Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I’ll just…” she trailed off. Tim had been her friend for so long that she hadn’t even thought twice before coming over, seeking support.

“You couldn’t have known. Just… here,” she said, scribbling down a name and phone number on the back of a receipt and handing it to Abby. “It’s a personal friend of mine. Someone who can help you. Not that we think you’re crazy, of course,” she paused, making sure that the other woman met her eyes before she continued, “but that you might benefit from talking about it. With a professional.”

Abby looked at her quizzically, but took the piece of paper. Tim smiled, wrapping his arm around Delilah’s waist as she continued. “Losing friends like the two of you have is obviously traumatic, as I know how close your team was. This is a unique situation, as they’re not dead, but they’re also no longer present in your lives. Dr. Thurman can help you through some of that.”

Tim had never felt so overwhelmingly loving toward Delilah than in that moment. Rather than getting upset about the unexpected visitor and the interruption in their sleep, she’d offered to help in the only way she knew how. He squeezed her waist as Abby folded the paper in half and then stuck it in her pocket. “You’re gonna be all right, Abs,” Tim said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “Just… call – or at least text – next time.”

“Sorry, Timmy,” she said sheepishly. “But what about…”

“I’m not giving up hope until I know there’s none. They’ll come back to us, I know it. Tony and Ziva are experts at survival. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“You’re sure? How?”

“I just… call it a hunch. A gut feeling,” Tim said, and Abby’s shoulders visibly slumped with relief. Tim’s gut had nothing on Gibbs’ gut, but if he said that he had a gut feeling, then she would trust that.

“Okay,” she said quietly, putting on a brave face. “Sorry for waking you guys up,” she said. And she sincerely was. The nightmare had held her so tightly and given her such a panic that she had eschewed all rational thought and driven to the nearest comfort – McGee.

Tim nodded, and escorted her to the door. She turned and suddenly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a small peck on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Tim nodded against her. He knew that she wasn’t just thanking him, but also Delilah, and she was silently giving her blessing to the two of them. Abby had been just a touch jealous when he’d started dating her, but now it appeared that she was finally coming around.

“Good night,” he said, giving her a slight squeeze before letting her go. His gut was telling him two things. The first was that he and Abby were going to be absolutely fine and that any resentment toward Delilah was now a thing of the past, and the second was that Tony and Ziva were almost assuredly fine, and that – despite having been off the search for quite some time now – everything would be all right.

* * *

The morning sun was peering through the crack between the door and the wall, and Tony smiled inwardly at the feeling of his hand on Ziva’s stomach. The days were always hot, but they’d found that the nights and mornings were often cool. Neither would have ever admitted it, but they liked the cuddling – the shared body heat was just an added bonus.

She sighed contentedly, and Tony made a mental list of the things he would need to accomplish today. There wasn’t a lot to be done today that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, he realized, and allowed himself to think about taking a leisurely walk later this evening, before the sun went too far down.

Ziva began to shift slightly, but also made no real effort to get up, indicating that she may have been thinking along the same lines – nothing pressing. He was glad for it. He enjoyed their evening nature walks, as she called them.

“Good morning,” he murmured into her hair, and she squirmed away slightly. He knew that she was ticklish, and he never missed an opportunity to point it out.

“Morning,” she murmured back, still apparently drowsy. He kissed her shoulder and settled back down on the pillow, tightening his arm around her. If anyone had told him last year that he’d be lying on a homemade bed – one that was actually pretty comfortable, he had to admit despite his earlier skepticism – in the middle of literally nowhere with Ziva wrapped in his arms, he would have thought they were insane.

 _Well_ , he mused to himself, _not the part about Ziva wrapped in his arms_. That part would have probably happened regardless of their location, if he’d had any say in the matter. Tony was surprised that they’d managed to make this situation work for them, but they had a cozy little home, a space of their own. A little unconventional, but they were happy enough, and more importantly, they were _safe._

Absently, Tony began lightly rubbing Ziva’s stomach as he contemplated what all had happened over the last several months. They’d disappeared, and judging by the fact that no one had located them, it appeared they’d done so without a trace. Widow was undoubtedly still after them – Ziva had warned Tony that they wouldn’t give up, and that they would relentlessly pursue them to the ends of the earth. It worried him that they might eventually find them, but the planet was huge, and they were well hidden. They’d taken great trouble to ensure that they’d left no trail behind them.

Tony was aroused from his thoughts when he felt something pushing against his hand. “What was that?” He asked Ziva, his hand momentarily stilled on her stomach.

“What?” she asked, still sleepy and apparently oblivious.

“You didn’t feel that?” He asked.

“It was nothing Tony, just a little gas,” she said, yawning. “Relax.” Tony felt the pushing sensation again, and started.

“Ziva, I don’t think that’s gas,” he pointed out, and then it struck him. _When was the last time she’d had her period?_ He couldn’t recall. “Ziva, are you pregnant?”

She sat up quickly, looking at him in surprise. “What?”

“Think about it. I can’t remember how long it’s been since you’ve had your period, because you never want to have sex while you’re on it,” When had _that_ become a sentence he could utter without feeling weird? “And it isn’t like we’ve had any sort of protection…” he trailed off. He was convinced of it, Ziva was pregnant.

“Do you think that I would not _know?”_ she asked him, exasperated.

“Well maybe not. I mean, have you ever been pregnant before?” he asked, grimacing at the forwardness of that question. It wasn’t that they weren’t close enough to discuss that sort of thing, but if she’d ever been pregnant before and did not currently have a child then that would probably not be a subject she’d want him to bring up. There was much he knew about her past, but there was much he didn’t know, as well, and some subjects were too painful to talk about. Despite their current openness with each other, he knew that some of the secrets in her life would likely stay hidden for a very long time.

“No, but…” she trailed off, puffing out her breath, the air moving her hair from the front of her face. “I _can’t_ be pregnant, Tony. I just _can’t.”_

“Can’t as in ‘unable to get pregnant’ or can’t as in ‘I don’t want to be, so it can’t be the case’?” They’d never talked about the possibility of children, and though she’d never said she couldn’t, he wasn’t sure if something had happened to her during one of her difficult Mossad missions. _Or Somalia,_ he thought, but pushed it out of his mind. Somalia was something he did his best not to think about, for his own sanity.

She glared at him. “Of course I _can_ get pregnant, Tony. I just…” she trailed off again. _Damn it,_ she thought as she eased herself off the bed, _he may be right._ She’d been feeling odd lately, nothing she couldn’t brush off, but it had messed with her equilibrium. She hadn’t told Tony because she didn’t want him to worry, but now she knew without a doubt that she wasn’t sick. She sighed, letting out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “What are we going to do?”

“Assuming I’m right, and I suspect that we both think I am,” he said, noting how she didn’t quite meet his eyes, “we’re just going to do whatever we can. We’ve been living off the land for months. People have lived off the land for thousands of years. We’ll be all right.”

Ziva's hand involuntarily reached for her stomach and patted it protectively, and her eyes followed her hand. They were going to have a baby.

Ziva panicked inwardly. A baby they were by no means prepared for. She didn’t know anything about pregnancy and had no idea how far along she could possibly be. She didn’t know what kind of preparations she and Tony could make for a child. She didn’t know how to _have_ a child.

“Tony,” she whispered panic evident in her eyes, “I don’t know how to have a baby. And you don’t know how to deliver one! We can’t… we…” she trailed off again, slumping against the wall, clutching her stomach nervously. She looked down at her hands, the hands that were now protecting a life soon to be born to a cruel and unforgiving wilderness. How could they have been so careless?

“We will be fine, Ziva,” he responded soothingly, crossing the room to take her in his arms. She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder, but he could still feel her inability to relax against him.

“But we can’t even go to a hospital. What if something is wrong? What if–”

“Ziva.” He interrupted her, pulling away, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly. “You need to stop worrying.”

“But–”

“No buts. Centuries of humans have conceived and birthed babies in living conditions similar to this. Those communities thrived, some still do. We will thrive. Our baby will thrive.” Her head snapped up at the words _our baby,_ and she met his eyes. _Our baby,_ she thought. _This is not just my baby. We are going to have a baby._

“We’re going to have a baby,” she said out loud, quietly, as if shocked.

“Yes,” he replied, nodding, a grin starting to spread on his face.

“You are… happy?” She asked, and before he could respond, she continued, “And not terrified?”

“Oh, I’m terrified all right,” he joked, his face softening as he reached his hand to brush her hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, drawing a breath as he grazed her skin. “But you’re my ninja,” he added, “and I know that if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Slowly, a smile began to spread across her lips, and though Tony could see that the panic was still there, it had lessened. “Tony,” she murmured, a slight flush tinting her cheeks. Here she was, the future mother of his child, and she was still bashful sometimes when he showed her affection.

“Whatever happens,” he said, leaning in, his hands still tangled lightly in her hair, “you’ll always be my ninja, Ziva.” Her eyes met his, shining with unshed tears, as he closed the gap between them and kissed her gently, his lips lightly moving against her own. She reached one of her arms around his waist to pull him closely against her, feeling his free hand cover her own over her abdomen, the kiss deepening, hands clinging and hearts pounding.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Tony leaned forward and against her, drawing her into a tight hug. He hadn’t wanted Ziva to see him panicking, but he couldn’t settle his own fears about his impending fatherhood. _Would_ they be able to deliver a baby? Neither of them knew anything about labor and delivery, having had zero personal experience with either. And how could they be parents? How would they handle some of the baby’s most basic needs?

Ziva felt him tensing, and pulled back, searching his eyes. “You _are_ panicking,” she observed, and he tried to hide it, but it was too late.

“I wanted to be strong, for you. For… both of you,” he said with a gulp, his eyes shifting to her currently flat abdomen. He had to be strong, because she needed him. _They_ needed him.

Ziva lifted her hands to his face, caressing the scruff she’d grown used to over the past several months. The face she’d grown used to touching, the man she’d grown used to loving. _Loving._ “Look at me,” she breathed, her face only inches from his, and he closed the distance between them, kissing her lightly, trying desperately not to cling to her. When he pulled away, he stayed close, his breath on hers, his eyes alight with worry. “We will get through this. Clearly, I am not very pregnant just yet, so we will have time to adjust, to prepare. We _will_ be okay, Tony, all right?”

“How can you be so calm when you were just freaking out a minute ago?”

“Because you need me to be,” she breathed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “We’ll just have to take turns panicking,” she joked. He held her there, pulling her into a tight hug, groaning at the feel of her pressed against him. He smiled at the realization that this was simply what they _did –_ they supported one another.

“But what will we do? We don’t have any bottles, or formula, or…” he trailed off, swallowing hard before continuing. “Diapers? A crib? And what about predators, and _–_ ”

Ziva interrupted him, letting out a slight chuckle. “Breathe, Tony,” she instructed, and he obeyed, taking in a long draw of breath to steady himself. “To answer, we will not need bottles. I will just have to breastfeed, so we will not need formula either. Diapers will have to be cloth, and we can build a crib. And we are simply going to have to be more mindful of predators than before, but it is nothing we cannot handle.”

“Breastfeeding, _of course,”_ he said, exhaling a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He tried to imagine Ziva holding a child, a _baby,_ and nuzzling it close to her breast, looking at it lovingly as it suckled happily, and he almost lost his breath again. Ziva, a mother? How badly he had wanted that for her, knowing how badly she wanted it for herself.

“You’re going to be a mother.” He was amazed, caught in a state of wondrous marvel, a huge smile growing across his face. Ziva looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and he saw then the light of tears welling in her eyes as the smile on her own face grew in response. He could hardly believe it. All of these years of desperately wanting a family of her own and now, she would have it. He could give that to her. “I love you,” he breathed, unable to contain himself any longer, and just needing her to know, know the pride he felt at having been the one to give that to her, to bring her closer to one of her dreams.

But it wasn’t just her dream anymore, he realized. It was _their_ dream. He’d wanted to have kids at some point. He hadn’t really ever voiced that, but the possibility was always in the back of his mind that someday, with someone, he could have a family. And now he would. “We’re going to be a family,” he breathed, his heart soaring as he spoke.

Ziva smiled, her eyes meeting his as she replied. “Wow,” she breathed, a soft chuckle as she realized it. “We really are.”

“We’re gonna be okay?” He asked, getting serious again, his heart still gripped with a fear he hadn’t felt upon waking, a fear he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his with a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna be okay,” she echoed, pulling him forward and into a hug, where they stayed, taking a much-needed moment to come to grips with their new reality.

* * *

Tony couldn’t keep his eyes off the little bump that was starting to form, the lovely roundness as the baby grew. Ziva had stopped wearing traditional clothing most of the time, often donning clothes she’d made out of animal hides, as they’d grown to be more durable than the cotton clothes they’d bought at the market. They were also a lot better suited to the climate, keeping her cool on the days when it was unbearably hot, and keeping her warm when the days were chilly.  

Today, Ziva was wearing a top that exposed her midriff, and a garment that he could only describe as a skirt on her lower half, slung low around her hips, so that the baby bump that had begun to emerge was visible. Their child was in there, safely tucked within her abdomen, and despite the reality having sunk in a couple of weeks ago, it was still something he thought of with a small bit of disbelief.

Oh, how quickly everything had changed for them. Again. Hadn’t he marveled at how different their lives had been when they’d first come out here and built a house? And then again after they’d grown closer and begun a relationship? Now, again, he was adjusting to a big change.

But god, he thought as he watched her sorting through the first batch of crops they’d managed to produce, she was a sight to behold. Ziva, dressed in animal hides, her hair wild and her stomach protruding ever-so-slightly, looking at him and smiling that unguarded smile of hers. It was a sight that still caused his breath to hitch, and his heart to stutter slightly.

“You up for a hunt today?” she asked, placing her newly harvested veggies in one of their clay bowls, where they’d stay until it was time to cook them for a meal. There were green beans and peas, neither of which were Tony’s favorite foods to eat, but he couldn’t exactly argue that the nutrients they’d provide would be incredibly important, especially now that Ziva needed to eat for a little one.

He looked up, taking another moment to peruse her form. “Should you really be hunting right now?”

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him, her face turning almost instantly from a pleasant smile to a glare. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. “Why should I not be? I can walk, can I not? I can shoot, can I not?”

Tony knew when arguing was pointless, and he backed down. “Yeah. Uh… sorry,” he stuttered, instantly chastised. “I’ll just grab the weapons,” he offered as an afterthought, and stepped into the house to do just that.

When he emerged, he handed her the bow, which had become her weapon of choice. He hadn’t even asked her where she’d learned to make such a thing, and he’d also been impressed by the arrows she’d created. They were _sharp,_ and rather deadly. Which, considering the fact that they needed them to be, was a damn good thing.

She shouldered the quiver of arrows and led them away from the house and into the woods, in search of prey. It had been a while since the last time they’d hunted, and they really didn’t come across any large game very frequently, but they’d always had enough to eat regardless. There was generally a steady influx of fish, the vegetables were now harvestable, and they frequently were able to hunt small game. “I want to find something large today,” she whispered, her steps soft and precise through the forest floor. Tony mimicked her, his footsteps light, but he was much less graceful than she was, and he was noisier than he wanted to be. Still, he had grown a lot when it had come to being more ninja-like, as he called it.

“Why?” he whispered back, his face close to hers so as not to allow his voice to carry. “We have plenty of food.”

“Yes, but I would like some more hides. The baby will need clothes.” He felt his heart twisting in his chest at the thought of their child, a child who was already so loved. Ziva couldn’t very well just pop in to Babies ‘R Us or Target and buy some clothes, so this must be the next best solution.

“Why don’t you just recycle some of our stuff?”

“Why can our child not have some of his or her own belongings?” He had no reason to argue with that, although it wasn’t really necessary, but if Ziva wanted their baby to have new clothes then he would make sure their baby would have new clothes.

He certainly wouldn’t say _no_ to new meat, anyway. Meat – that wasn’t fish – was always a treat.

They stayed near the stream to keep from getting lost, as they usually did, but soon they had wandered quite a distance from their home, both of them keeping their eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Ziva motioned for Tony to sit down on a log nearby, and he did, keeping his eyes trained on the forest in front of him. Ziva sat beside him, facing the opposite direction, and they sat, waiting.

Hunting wasn’t always exciting, and today would likely be one of those days. However, it only made sense that they would sit still for a long period of time. Animals were not stupid, and they wouldn’t generally be up and moving about if they suspected predators were nearby. After sitting for a while, however, Tony had generally noticed that they would start to come back out, forgetting that humans were nearby. As long as they didn’t make any sudden movements, most animals couldn’t even perceive them sitting there.

It was something he’d never considered, but then again, despite having grown up in a slightly rural area, he’d never been hunting before. Ziva, of course, had.

They sat for several hours, with little to show for it. There had been many birds, of course, and some squirrels fidgeting about, but nothing much larger than that. Some days, hunting was just a glorified bird-watching session. When Ziva nudged him, indicating that she was ready to go, he stood up without complaint, holding his hand out to help her up, despite knowing that she didn’t need his help.

She took his hand without complaint, and soon they were on their way back to the house.

When they got back there, Ziva set about making some clothing out of some of the remaining fabric she had. She still wanted to find a larger animal, like a cougar, and they’d keep hunting until they found one, but for now she could at least make some simple cotton shirts. She sat down at the table and began to work, hardly noticing when Tony had left the cabin.

He came back in some time later with two squirrels, which he had already skinned. Their hides were much too small to be of use for any clothing, but Ziva wondered if they might work for some sort of makeshift diapers. She had begun to view everything through the lens of what would and wouldn’t work for their child, and she absently rubbed her hand over her growing stomach as she hummed to herself, stitching up tiny garments that their child would soon wear. Lost in thought, she barely noticed when Tony left the cabin and then came back again, only recognizing his return when she began to smell the faint aroma of something cooking.

“I wonder how much time we have,” Tony said as he sat down at the table, setting down a plate of the meat he’d just cooked. It was still hot, as it had come right off the fire, and so Ziva continued working on the t-shirt she was putting together. It looked rather huge, for a newborn, she realized, but the baby would grow into it and this would mean that they’d have to do less sewing, as it was definitely not her favorite chore.

“Kind of makes me wish we had been keeping track of time,” Ziva replied, setting down the clothing. They had talked about this before, but they’d grown no closer to a solution to timekeeping than they had previously.

“It would be nice to have a birthdate for our child, when he or she is born,” she added wistfully. _If_ they were ever able to return home, assuming Widow would be taken out and they’d been somehow found and notified, they’d still have no idea when the baby had been born. Of all the things she’d planned on, worrying about the days and the months that passed had not even remotely been on her radar.

“It would be kind of weird not knowing,” Tony agreed. “I just think about being back home, and our kid is coming home from school, telling us about their classmate’s birthday party. And asking us about why we have never had a birthday party for them, or why we never even seem to celebrate their birthday. Or wondering why we don’t even know, and not understanding _how_ we don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

“Because anyone would be like, ‘This isn’t right. Whose parents don’t know their actual birthdate?’ But we wouldn’t. I don’t have a clue on earth what month it is right now, let alone the exact day.”

“I don’t, either.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping guiltily. There were so many things they could handle out here. So many things they’d discussed and come up with solutions for, to the point where she’d almost thought they might be ready for this child, at least mentally. But this was something they had no solution for. Unless…

“What if we just make a count?”

Tony had just taken a bite of his food, which had finally cooled enough for consumption. His mouth was full and he spoke around his food, mumbling, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we found some way to mark off the days? Carving notches in a tree or something. We start the day he or she is born, then if we’re ever able to leave, we just count them all up, look at a calendar, and figure out the date that way?”

“That sounds a little tedious,” he said, despite knowing it was probably the only solution they had if they wished to know their child’s exact birthdate. All this assuming, of course, that they ever even _got_ to return home. “Not the marking part,” he added, clarifying his statement as he noted her slight confusion. “The part about counting backwards.”

Ziva smiled ruefully. “It’s the only way though, isn’t it?” And it was, he realized. Short of heading out of the wilderness and into some town just to pick up a calendar from somewhere – while simultaneously asking the date, which would definitely raise some eyebrows – this was the only way.

“It might be years, didn’t you say that?”

“It might be years,” she echoed, answering his question. “But we can make a tally. We can mark every hundred days to make it easier to count. It will also allow us to know how old the baby is, even if we can’t leave for a long time. We have some time to figure it out.” She patted her belly, still fairly small at this point. They were not in danger of needing a solution immediately.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them finishing up their meals, as the food was good and there wasn’t much they needed to discuss that couldn’t wait until they were done. Tony wiped his hands using a fabric napkin, then picked up both his plate and Ziva’s, taking them outside to rinse them off in the river. The plates were his creation, along with the bowls and cups they now used, made out of the clay he’d found in a small cave not far from their dwelling. It had been hard for him to fire and thus solidify the things they’d made without making their small, hidden fire unnecessarily larger, but it had been a worthwhile endeavor to have some actual flatware, and the increase to their fire supply had only been temporary.

The cave was probably about a mile from where they lived, and while it didn’t hold anything important – “No pirate’s booty,” he’d joked when they had explored it – it could prove to be useful. Ziva had made sure to commit the location of the cave to memory, and she’d made sure that Tony had done the same, though his navigational skills weren’t quite as sharp as hers.

When Tony came back into the cabin, storing the dishes away, he noted that Ziva was leaning over the table, tears running down her face. He rushed across the room to her, cupping her cheek in his hands and wiping the tears away.

“Ziva?” He hadn’t seen her cry in … well, not since they’d come here. She wasn’t exactly the type of person to regularly cry.

“I’m fine,” she said with a sniffle, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “It’s just the pregnancy, that’s all. I don’t even have a _reason_ to cry, I’m just crying for no reason.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, laughing despite her tears, but another surge of moisture began to form in her eyes and she began to start crying all over again. “But what if the baby’s not okay, and we can’t do anything about it because we can’t go to a doctor?” Her shoulders began to shake as she truly began to cry in earnest, and Tony pulled her against him, letting her cry it out against his chest.

“We can’t worry about that,” he said softly, planting a kiss to the top of her head as he patted her gently and rubbed her back. “And I’m sure everything will be fine.”

She drew back slightly, looking into his eyes. “How? How can you be sure?”  

He couldn’t lie to her, even if it meant that it wouldn’t help her to stop crying. “I can’t. But I also can’t even let myself think about any sort of worst-case scenario. Isn’t it incredibly rare for something to go wrong with pregnancies and childbirth?” She nodded, still not looking quite convinced. “Then we just have to trust that everything will be fine. Everything will be _fine.”_

She didn’t respond, so he held her for a while, stroking her back lovingly and allowing her to seek comfort in his arms. He had no experience with pregnant women, but he knew enough. Ziva was not much of a crier, nor was she much of a worrier, so it must have had something to do with being pregnant.

It was starting to become visibly obvious, but he still stopped breathing just for a moment at the thought. Ziva was _pregnant._ He was still struggling to believe it, despite seeing it for himself.

He pushed a strand of hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear, and she looked up at him, her crying now ceased. “Thank you, Tony,” she said quietly, leaning up to kiss him softly. He didn’t need to ask what she was thanking him for. For being there for her and for letting her cry. Maybe even for loving her, though he thought that maybe _he_ should be the one thanking her.

“I’m always here for you, okay? You don’t have to wait until I leave before you start crying.”

“I wasn’t.” To his relief, she didn’t sound defensive, or upset that he’d suggested it. “I was just sitting here and it was like… like… I don’t know. I just started crying, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

He grinned, a teasing glint to his eyes as he responded. “Well I guess this won’t be the only time that happens.”

She smirked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Probably not.” Instinctively, she knew there was no reason to be embarrassed, but it was another emotion she rarely felt that couldn’t help bubbling to the surface. Tony was, after all these years, one of the only people she felt even a little comfortable crying in front of, and he had proven on more than one occasion that he would not find her displays of emotion any sort of weakness.

“You’re so strong,” he whispered in her ear, kissing at her lobe as he spoke. It was almost as if he was reading her mind, like somehow he had known where her thoughts had led. She drew back, her eyebrows raised. “I just figured that’s where your mind was. You always think that showing emotion makes you weak, but it’s the opposite. I had to learn that, too. You used to hide your emotions beneath outward displays of strength, and I used to hide mine behind jokes. But we don’t need those things anymore, Ziva.”

“I would actually miss your jokes. And your movie references,” she said with a smile, though she truly did mean it. Sure, it was nice that he was able to be more serious when the situation called for it, but part of what made him Tony were both of those things.

He grinned. “I thought you wanted me to grow up,” he said, surprised.

“You can be a mature adult and still have fun sometimes,” was her response. “You know exactly when to make me laugh, and I love you for it.”

His grin grew wider at that, and he pulled her head toward his to kiss her deeply, groaning into her mouth as she parted her lips for him. The most amazing thing about Ziva being more open about her emotions was not that she let him see her cry. It was that she was so free about admitting how she felt about him. “I love you, too,” he replied when they pulled apart, breathless, and he took her hand and led her to the bed, where he spent the rest of the evening showing her exactly how much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 10 on Tuesday.
> 
> A quick note regarding the pregnancy: typically, the first kicks that can be felt by someone other than the mother are about halfway through a pregnancy, at which time, the woman would probably already be showing. However, all women are different, so I'm using that philosophy here. I recall first being able to feel my kids kicking about four months in, and I wasn't showing at that point. I didn't want anyone to think, "Wait... that's not how that works!" 
> 
> As always, thanks to all of you for your lovely feedback on this.


	10. Tempest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGee receives communication from Widow, and Tony and Ziva wait out a storm.

The mail drop came by mid-morning, as it usually did whenever the team was there to witness it, and McGee watched as a couple of envelopes were dropped on Gibbs’ desk, along with two dropped on his own. Usually, the mail he got was some communication about a deposition he’d have to do, sometimes a subpoena, but nothing usually too pressing that it couldn’t wait until the end of the day.

But one of the envelopes caught his eye and he picked it up, noting as he did that the letter addressed him specifically, but had no stamp or postmark on it, which was suspicious in itself. He held the letter up to the light, looking to see if there was any substance inside the envelope, still cautious even after more than ten years since Tony’s bout with the plague. They’d all become more cautious since then, and this letter _screamed_ caution. McGee knew better than to open it at his desk, and he picked up the envelope and sought out Gibbs, who had probably gone down to autopsy to discuss Ducky’s latest findings on their most recent case. After having lost Tony and Ziva and gaining a couple of newbies to fill in the vacancies, he and Gibbs had gotten stuck on some of the simpler cases, including this one, a hit and run in one of the residential neighborhoods. Possibly malicious, but probably not.

The hit and run, like almost all of the cases they’d had since Tony and Ziva had gone, was a boring case. Thompson and Pruitt would be fine, with a bit more time, and Gibbs was getting more than aggravated at the simplistic case load, but Vance had insisted. Maybe the next case would be a bit more exciting.

“Boss,” he called as he strode into the autopsy lab, interrupting the conversation between the two elder members of his team. “I need you to look at this.”

Gibbs, used to sensing when an interruption was necessary, dropped what he was asking about and turned to face McGee, who held an envelope up, indicating that he should come look at it. Gibbs crossed to the doorway, taking the envelope that was addressed to “Agent McGee, NCIS Headquarters,” and looking at it.

“Where’d this come from?” he asked, and McGee shrugged.

“It was dropped off with mail this morning,” was all he said, and Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the statement. They’d had their fair share of run-ins with the mail, and he wondered how this particular piece of mail had even gotten in the building and onto his agent’s desk without any sort of screening whatsoever.

Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, he dialed a number before sighing and turning off the display on this phone. Gibbs had no patience for the lack of signal in autopsy, and he grabbed at Ducky’s desk phone, dialing an extension and barking at the person on the other end of the line to come down, “suited up.”

“You think this is another hazardous letter?” McGee asked, swallowing nervously. He’d had enough of substances that came in the mail and people who tried to kill them furtively.

“Not taking the chance,” he said, and he put the letter down on one of the tables. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be opened until they could ensure that its contents were benign. Suspicious letters were never simply _opened_. There was an entire production of it.

Not ten minutes later the Hazmat team had come down to autopsy and cordoned it off, providing McGee, Gibbs, and Ducky with suits so that they could be in on the action. They’d turned off all of the ventilation and McGee was already beginning to feel like heated death in his suit, but they couldn’t risk it. Tony and Ziva were missing, certainly still being pursued by someone (or several someones), and nothing was quite as simple as it had been in the past.

The Hazmat team used several instruments before opening the envelope, scanning it through x-ray and heat vision, and determining that there was nothing especially volatile. Still, they placed it into a clear container and only then did they open it, via some large claw-like objects that kept them at a distance from the envelope. When they finally extracted the letter, there was no substance that any of them could see, but the team was still not taking any risks. They used several sprays, dyes, and other test substances, but they found nothing unusual about the letter, aside from its existence.

It appeared to be just a letter and nothing more, but no one was willing to remove their Hazmat suit and handle it regardless.

McGee was the first to suggest that they at least read the letter, even if they didn’t take it out of the case, and Gibbs nodded his assent to this request. He stepped forward, as the letter _had_ been addressed to him, and began to read the note, typed in all caps.

**TELL US THE WHEREABOUTS OF FORMER MOSSAD OFFICER ZIVA DAVID AND HER PARTNER, SPECIAL AGENT ANTHONY DINOZZO. ZIVA DAVID MUST BE ELIMINATED, AND SO MUST HER PARTNER FOR AIDING HER. YOU CANNOT HIDE THEM AWAY FOREVER. SHOULD YOU WISH TO MAKE A DEAL, MEET AT FINNEGAN’S ON 9TH AT 1700 THIS EVENING. COME ALONE.**

**GOODBYE.**

“That’s ominous,” McGee remarked rather unnecessarily. Who _were_ these people, and why did they think that he had any idea where Tony and Ziva were? They’d disappeared without a trace _months_ ago, and had left absolutely no clue where to find them. He and Gibbs had been over this already. It was obvious that they didn’t want to be found, apparently for this very reason.

“You are not going to attend this meeting,” Gibbs ordered.

McGee balked, taken aback. If he could find out more about these terrorists that were after Tony and Ziva, maybe he could figure out something that would help protect them. “Why not?”

Gibbs looked at him like he was an idiot. “Are you serious? We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” he responded, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“I’m not planning to negotiate with them. I just want to gather some intel. Act like I have something to give them, but trick them into giving _me_ information instead.”

“No.”

McGee was fuming. He’d sat back, given up the search for his friends, knowing that Gibbs needed him to be a present member of his team and the organization. But this was the first pressing lead he’d had on the case for _months,_ and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t go and at least try to find out _something._

“I know what you’re thinking, McGee, and the answer is no. I can’t risk this being a setup. If they can’t find Tony and Ziva, then that means they’re desperate. They’re reaching out to you knowing that you don’t have any answers. Desperate terrorists are the most dangerous. You’re not going to go meet with them.”

“But Boss-”

“No.” It was firmer this time, and McGee knew better than to continue arguing. He might be the only original member of his team left, but he didn’t get any special treatment for it, and he knew better than to try and anger the boss.

He sighed, biting his lip in frustration. “But what if I _don’t_ show up and they decide to target _us?_ If they managed to get this letter here, they could attack us here.” He paused, debating whether or not he should say what he wanted to, then took the plunge. “After all, desperate terrorists are the most dangerous, right?”

Gibbs stopped short, sighing deeply before continuing. McGee wasn’t wrong, exactly, but risking his best agent wasn’t exactly a prime move for him. He sighed again, already regretting what he was about to say before he said it. “Make a plan, then. But I have the right to veto it, and you _will_ obey my directive when it comes to this, is that clear?”

“Crystal,” McGee said, nodding solemnly. The Hazmat team had given them the all-clear, so he unzipped the uncomfortable suit and left autopsy and the threatening letter behind, heading up to his desk and working furiously to devise a plan through which he could meet with the terrorists – by himself – and not put himself at risk. He had no idea how many men he’d be up against, how many bystanders would be present, or even the layout of the restaurant they wanted him to meet at. He’d be going in completely blind, and it was almost too big a risk.

When Gibbs finally decided to call it, he hadn’t been shocked. They hadn’t had the time to prepare for this type of meeting, and it reeked of a setup. The probies had returned from their outing – Gibbs had sent them to question two witnesses to the hit and run – and they were not terribly adept at providing assistance, leaving McGee to inwardly rescind his earlier assessment that Vance should give them back some cases that were actually interesting and worthwhile. Then again, they were both still so inexperienced, and a huge international terrorism case wasn’t exactly the best place for one to get his or her feet wet as an NCIS Special Agent.

“Why would they only now reach out to us? Tony and Ziva have been gone for what – eight months? Why wait?” McGee was perplexed by this, and despite his annoyance at having the meeting called for being too risky, he still had a lot of questions, questions that he hoped would be answered soon.

“They must not have thought it was worth it to talk to us until now,” was all Gibbs said, and McGee left it at that. The meeting time came and passed, and McGee looked at the clock anxiously, wondering what would have been in store for him if he’d chosen to go. Would the terrorists get angry that he hadn’t shown up and take it out on innocent people? Would they attempt to reach out a second time?

The team started working on their hit-and-run case again, and McGee focused his attention on that. He was tired of the lighter caseload, but if he wanted the Director to give them better cases again, then they’d need to get better at solving these menial ones. He busied himself with going over the information with the other two agents, and they caught a detail that had been missed earlier in the day, the four of them running out and chasing down the lead. They found the perpetrator with little difficulty after that, and after they’d gotten him to sign his confession and filed the paperwork, McGee was feeling a lot better about the two newest members of the team.

Jordan Thompson was a former Marine fresh off of a tour in Afghanistan. She’d suffered significant hearing loss in an IED blast, earning her a Purple Heart and preventing her from continuing her service in the Armed Forces, despite the state-of-the-art hearing aids she now wore, that allowed her to hear with 78% efficiency. They’d had to work around her disability when it came to wearing earpieces, but she’d proven that it wasn’t going to keep her from being a valuable member of the team. She was an excellent shot and a quick thinker, if still a little green in terms of the investigative side of things. McGee knew, after witnessing a brief lapse in her composure, that Agent Thompson suffered from minor PTSD, which she kept in check via the use of both therapy and medication. Gibbs had been surprisingly okay with her taking mental-health days when needed, and McGee had begun to value having her alongside him. She was fiercely loyal and would not let him go into any situation uncovered.

Nathan Pruitt had gotten into NCIS similarly to the way that Tony had, as he had been a cop for the past five years. Pruitt had wanted to get into investigative work, but he had been relegated to the highway patrol, where he spent the vast majority of his time watching people with a radar gun and engaging in high-speed run-downs of people who were often too distracted to pay attention to their speed. He also had the gruesome task of handling traffic accidents and the unfortunate and all-too-frequent drunk drivers. When he’d interviewed with NCIS, he’d told McGee, he had spoken of his need for a change. It was kind of ironic now that they were chasing down a hit-and-run, but then again, this type of case wasn’t what they usually investigated on Gibbs’ team. Pruitt hadn’t really gotten his investigative feet yet, either, but he’d surely be a solid Agent after having both Gibbs and McGee teaching him.

It was a new dynamic, but it wasn’t all that bad, he supposed. Tony and Ziva had been gone for so long now, and life had to move on, even if a part of him still hoped for their return. The evening was winding down and neither Pruitt nor Thompson had left yet, and Gibbs was beginning to shut down, which let Tim know that it was time to gather his things. The newbies hadn’t quite gotten used to Gibbs’ cues, so when the man told them to pack up and go home, they scrambled to get their things together, shutting down their monitors and heading toward the elevator.

McGee rode down the elevator with them in silence, glad to be heading home after such a long day. It had been an adjustment, having two new probies on his team, but he liked them well enough.

He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t even heard the elevator ding, signaling that they’d reached the ground floor, until he saw the other two agents getting out of the elevator. Wordlessly, he followed them outside, then walked to his car, which was parked on the far side of the lot, where he preferred to park so that it would be less likely that someone would hit his car.

He had almost to put his key in the lock when he noticed the paper on the windshield, tucked neatly under the windshield wiper. It wasn’t a parking ticket, as his decal was clearly and prominently displayed, so it must be something else. As he leaned forward to glance at it, he noted the words written in what appeared to be permanent marker: “YOU SHOULD HAVE MET WITH US TODAY.”

There was no way he was getting into his car now, and he backed away from it quickly, before dropping his keys and running in the opposite direction, ducking behind a car more than fifty yards away. The blast still took him by surprise, when it hit, but he had gotten far enough away and used the other car as cover so that he was mostly uninjured, save for a few shards of glass that had found their way into his skin and a rather severe ringing in his ears.

He immediately dialed Gibbs, and soon the whole circus arrived. He only wished he’d thought to save the letter that was attached to the windshield, not that the evidence would have done him much good.

“Boss,” McGee said when the man finally gave him a once-over, as he sat in the back of an ambulance being looked at for any other damage to his person. “They left me a note. On the windshield. It looked like it was written in Sharpie or something, and it said that I should have met with them.”

“The hell you should have,” was all Gibbs would say, and McGee began to shiver uncontrollably. Now that the initial shock was starting to wear off, the realization sank in. These terrorists weren’t just after Tony and Ziva now. They were after anyone who had a connection to them.

“We need to find these terrorists, kill them, and then find Tony and Ziva,” Gibbs finally said, and McGee shuddered again, visibly, as he nodded in agreement.

* * *

_It was warm, though there was a slight breeze. Their daughter was playing near the creek, and Tony was teaching her how to splash, her laughter echoing throughout the trees. Ziva smiled, watching both of the people she loved most fondly, content with the life they’d carved out in the wilderness._

_Suddenly, the light faded and she was in a dark room, suffocated by the smell of cigarette smoke that permeated the air. She tried to cough but couldn’t, and she watched as four men argued, though she couldn’t make out their words, that was, until they all turned to look at her, all of them mouthing, “Get the girl. Get the girl. Get the girl.”_

_Ziva’s eyes flew wide open as she realized that their daughter was not safe, but she couldn’t get back to the forest. She was chained, tied, somehow immobilized, watching as these men seemingly conspired to get their child and take her away. She was a beautiful girl, dark eyes and a mess of curls, and Ziva fell instantly in love. How had they found her? How did they even know that their daughter existed?_

_What was her name? Ziva couldn’t place it … it was just there in the tip of her brain, but the child’s name wouldn’t come to her, no matter how hard she thought of it …_

_Suddenly she was back in the cabin and there she was, their little girl, her face plastered on a huge television screen that had somehow materialized. Their daughter cooed and pointed at herself, mouthing the words, “it’s me!” She was excited, happy, transfixed, as terrible men came on the screen and begged for anyone to find this little girl._

_“For we miss her terribly, you see,” they said, and a woman stood by, playing at being her mother, apparently, to appeal to the sympathies of the entire world. No,_ _Ziva thought to herself, unable to speak. This is wrong!_ _That girl is not yours, she is mine! Mine! Mine!_

_Mine!_

_She is mine!_

She woke with a start, panting, her fingers tightening on the blanket as she breathed herself back to reality. Where was the baby? Where was her daughter? Almost immediately, as though the baby sensed her alarm, it began to kick against her, and she tried to calm herself down. She placed her hand on her stomach, realizing that it had just been a dream. _No,_ she corrected herself. _A nightmare._

Tony stirred beside her, and although she would have liked to allow him to sleep, she reached for him, shaken up and needing the comfort of his arms. “Wake up,” she said softly, her voice sounding meek and small, and he opened his eyes almost immediately, his eyes clouded with worry.

“You okay?” he said, clearing his throat afterward, trying to wipe away the remnants of sleep.  

She shook her head, though she wasn’t sure if he’d be able to see her motion in the darkness of the cabin. “I had a nightmare,” she said softly, scooting toward him and resting her head on his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and rubbing her back, reveling in the new way her changing body fit against his.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” she said softly, but she cleared her throat anyway, indicating that she would anyway. “But I think I need to.”

“Okay,” he said softly, and he kissed the top of her head, his lips getting slightly caught in the mess of her hair. He wiped his mouth softly, then smoothed the hair on the top of her head, taming the unruly curls.

“We were here, and we have the baby. And Widow knows that we have the baby, somehow. So instead of coming after me or you, they’re coming after her! It – it was a girl, in my dream. I actually hope that it is really a girl, but that’s beside the point. They had her picture on like, a big screen TV, and they were putting out a reward for anyone who would find her and _take_ her from us. And … and … I woke up, and she wasn’t here! She was gone, Tony!”

Ziva was sobbing now, and Tony held her tightly, unable to find the words to comfort her. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach, the way she must also feel, knowing that their child could be a target for these sick people. “And then I woke up here, for real, and I had another momentary panic, because she wasn’t here. And then I felt her kicking, like … it was a reminder, Tony, that’s she’s okay, and safe. With me. But only for now, Tony. What if I can’t protect her after she’s born? What will we do?”

“We will protect her. Or him,” he reminded her, his smile only slightly teasing her. She was so insistent that it was a girl, but just because she had dreamed it did not make the child a girl. “And obviously, Widow has no way of knowing that you’re pregnant, Ziva. We’ll just have to train extra hard, and make sure that we’re ready.”

“I was so afraid,” she confided, letting out a deep breath. She’d never felt as afraid as she did right now, and despite Tony’s arms around her, she still shivered slightly as the details of the nightmare started to slip from her consciousness, and all that remained was the fear.

“I will never give up fighting to keep you two safe, Ziva. _Never.”_ He kissed her forehead gently, and placed his hand gently on her stomach, wishing more than anything that his word would be enough. He knew it wasn’t, as the only reason they were currently in this situation at all was because a ruthless group of terrorists had deemed that she was at the very top of their shitlist.

The wind outside began to pick up, and Tony listened to the way the leaves rustled. Rain was in the air, he could practically smell it, and by the way the wind was starting to blow, he sensed that a storm was coming in. It wouldn’t be the first one they’d endured, but it seemed oddly fitting now, seeing as both of them felt so unsettled. It only made sense that the world would also bring itself to a state of upheaval.

A low rumble sounded in the distance and Ziva burrowed further under the covers. Late night thunderstorms were not altogether uncommon, but this one just _felt_ different. Maybe it was just the way her heart was still pounding in her chest, her adrenaline still pumping as she fought to keep herself steady and grounded. The nightmare had felt so _real._ She was convinced now, they were having a girl, and she would be born with dark eyes.

The wind picked up again, causing nearby branches to scrape along the side of the cabin, and another rumble sounded, much closer than the last. “We should probably try to get some sleep,” Tony whispered against her cheek, and she nodded, yawning despite herself.

Lighting lit up the interior for a split second, followed by a loud crash, causing both of them to jump slightly at the unexpected sound. “That sounded _really_ close,” she remarked, a new worry hitting her – what if they were struck by lightning?

“We’ll be fine,” he whispered, knowing instinctively what she was thinking, and as another flash illuminated the sky, he wondered if maybe this storm might be a lot more severe than either of them had bargained for.

* * *

Three days.

It had been three days, and the storm was still going strong. It was raining so heavily that it almost sounded like a train passing overhead as the drops pounded on the roof. The lightning and thunder continued almost constantly, and the wind was so severe that it had actually rocked the house just slightly, but enough to make both of them nervous about their safety.

Still, it was not exactly safe to go outside, either.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing you’re not due for a while, if I had to judge by the size of your stomach,” Tony joked, and Ziva almost threw something at him in response. They’d been cooped up for three days, and while they’d had plenty of food and water to last them so they could ride out the storm, she was growing restless, as the cabin _really_ wasn’t large enough for her to comfortably exercise.

“Not that the weather is going to make much difference, Tony. I’m pretty sure giving birth is the same whether it’s raining or not.”

Another loud clap of thunder sounded, startling the both of them, and she began to wonder what type of weather pattern this was. Was it classified as a hurricane? A typhoon? Or was this just a typical storm over the rainforest? She decided to ask Tony his opinion. “Do you think this is a hurricane?”

“Don’t hurricanes typically start over ocean before hitting land?”

“Would we even know if it did? All we know is what we’re experiencing _now._ So, do you think it’s a hurricane?” She’d never experienced one, herself, but she knew a little about them. When she was a child, she’d watch with fascination as the weather reporters would talk about the odd weather patterns that plagued other parts of the world. She’d often wondered what it would be like to experience one herself, to be stuck in the high-speed winds and heavy rainfall that would cause palm trees to bow in submission. Hurricanes were classified by wind speed, and right now she wished she had a way to measure the speed of the winds that were now whipping by the cabin.

Maybe if it was a hurricane, their house wouldn’t be holding up quite this well. “Maybe?” Tony asked, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t know.

They really hadn’t counted on extreme weather, which had not been prudent. Tony didn’t want to open the door, lest he be unable to close it again – and because he didn’t want to get drenched – but he wondered if the stream was planning to overflow, flooding the nearby ground outside their house and even the house itself. Flooding wasn’t something they’d considered, though they really didn’t have anything on the ground that _couldn’t_ get wet. Things would dry out eventually. It would just be really uncomfortable until the water receded. “Do you think it will flood?” He finally asked, voicing his fears about the extreme weather and their proximity to the stream.

“I have been wondering that myself, and I cannot say. Surely, the water level has risen. I would not be surprised if we have to contend with some water for a few days.”

“I guess the only thing we can do is just wait it out,” he said with a shrug, and Ziva nodded her agreement. It wasn’t like they could stop the storm, and they didn’t exactly have a ton of sandbags available to keep the water from rising into their home. Sandbags would be a good idea, though, for the next storm, and they could turn that into a project after the storm ended. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to reinforce their home.

“So what do you want to do then? Chess? Twenty questions? Charades?”

He briefly flashed back to the last time he and Ziva had talked about charades on the first day they’d met. He’d been such an ass back then, he realized, but he chose not to dwell on it. “Why don’t we just snuggle up on the bed and see if anything interesting pops up?” he suggested, giving her a wink. Although it was technically daytime, the storm had darkened the sky considerably and he couldn’t see very well, but maybe she had been able to see him winking at her.

Ziva groaned at the cheesy line. “Really? That’s the one you’re going with?”

“What?”

She crossed the room to him, taking his hands in hers and pushing them down to his sides, kissing him gently as the lightning lit up the room again for a few brief flashes. “You are lucky I love you so much,” she said, giving him another thorough kiss before speaking again. “And that I find you so attractive,” she added, kissing him again. “And that I am no longer immune to your charms,” she concluded, lifting her hands to his face and pulling his head to hers, shuddering at the way his hands settled low on her hips, caressing her gently.

“You were never immune to my charms,” he challenged, kissing her back hungrily, snaking his hands around to grab at her ass. She lifted one of her legs up, wrapping it around him, growling in frustration at the fact that her stomach was now large enough to prevent the friction she’d been hoping for.

“Yes I was,” she insisted, kissing him hungrily, her lips parting as she allowed him the access he craved. A loud crack of thunder sounded as they tumbled onto the bed, and they sought shelter in each other, riding out the storm on wave after wave of pleasure, their screams carried away by the pounding of the torrential rainfall.

* * *

_“Mama!” the child screamed, the terror evident in the small voice that was calling to her. Where was she? Where was her baby girl? What had they done to her? Ziva’s heart was pounding as she wandered through a dark corridor, dimly lit with only a few dangling lightbulbs on strings._

_“Mama!” She heard the cry again, from further away this time, but sounding more pained. Then again, “Mama!” from behind her, and Ziva whipped around, unsure which direction to head. The corridor stretched endlessly in both directions, and when Ziva turned to her left she noted it stretched that way, too, and also in the other direction. She moved forward, uncertain of where she should go, and she noted that the corridor continued to split into an endless web of passages, any one of which might be the direction that would lead her to her child._

_“Mama!” The voice chorused, and now she was certain that something was wrong, as she could hear the child calling from every direction. She spun around madly, the cries for help inundating her mind as she stood frozen, unable to move or act. Where was she? Why could she not find her? How had they ended up here?_

_“Mama!”_

She awoke to a sudden, blinding light and a loud crack, snapping her out of her nightmare and into another one. Next to her, Tony shot up in bed, also startled awake by the loud clap of thunder. The winds continued to blow and the rain continued to pound at the roof of their house, but a new sound now entered the mix, the sound of something breaking – a tree branch.

Without warning, something shook the house as it landed, with a thud, upon the roof, and Ziva realized then what had happened. The lightning must have struck one of the trees, causing it to topple over and land on the roof. “One of the trees,” she said, her eyes wide with fear. Outside, the rain pummeled the ground around them and the wind kept the tree branches scraping along the side of their house.

“Do you think it will…” he trailed off. He didn’t really know what they’d do if the roof suddenly started leaking, since this was really the only shelter they had. They’d been pretty lucky that the stream hadn’t overflowed and started flooding their house, or that the wind hadn’t blown the entire structure away. Maybe they were better builders than he’d thought. He resisted the urge to make a _Wizard of Oz_ reference, lest an actual tornado come along on top of everything else.

“I hope so. But we will have to wait until the storm passes before we can check.”

“Well obviously,” he joked, rolling his eyes. Did she honestly think that he would be crazy enough to run out there right _now,_ when lightning was actively striking trees that were practically attached to their house, to go climb up on the roof and check its integrity?

She looked down, noting with a groan that they had another problem. “Tony,” she said, looking down at the water flowing into their cabin through the crack underneath the door. She supposed, with the rain falling as heavily as it had been, that it had only been a matter of time, but she still had held out hope that they would avoid having to deal with flooding on top of everything else.

She hoped that the garden outside would survive the over-saturation.

“Shit,” he groaned, looking down at the muddied mess that now ran through their home. Everything that touched the ground was made either out of stone or out of wood, but that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be any damage.

“So now we have to worry about water on the floor and holes in the ceiling. Maybe my water should break, while we’re at it.”

“Don’t even _say_ that,” he warned, and Ziva froze. He spoke calmly and softly, but inside she could tell he was raging. “Don’t joke about that, _please,”_ he begged, and Ziva blinked, looking at him with her mouth agape.

“I am sorry,” she breathed, rubbing her hand absently over her belly. “I should not have said that. Our child will come when she – or _he –”_ she added pointedly, “is ready. And we need only to look at me now to know that the baby is not ready.”

She bowed her head, talking to her stomach in an animated tone. “You hear that, little one? You stay in there until you’re ready. We need you to be healthy.” Tony didn’t appear to be convinced, however, so Ziva looked up, talking only to him. “She’ll listen to me.”

“I’m going to laugh if it’s a boy, you know.”

She picked up one of the pillows and smacked him with it. “It’s not going to be a boy.” Ziva was certain of it. The baby would be a girl. She could feel it deep within her bones, that gut feeling that they’d always been talking about back when they’d worked at NCIS. Her gut was telling her that she was having a girl.

* * *

The weather had finally passed, and with it their boredom, as Tony and Ziva stepped outside their house for the first time in days, surveying the damage. The water that had come into the house had receded already, leaving a faint ring around the perimeter wall of the house, marking its existence, just in case either of the residents happened to forget about the flood that had kept them in bed as much as humanly possible for two straight days.

They were lucky, truthfully, that the water level hadn’t risen more than eight inches at its highest, but they also knew that another rainstorm right now could be catastrophic. “I hope it doesn’t rain again for a while,” Tony murmured as he looked around at the way everything had seemingly shifted under the deluge.

“You’re reading my mind,” Ziva replied, bending over and picking up one of many branches that had found its way into their usual path to the stream. She tossed it aside, then looked up at the sky, sensing that the sun was out for good, or at least for the remainder of the day. There seemed to be an almost visible path carved through the forest on the other side of the stream, and Ziva shuddered at the realization that it had probably been a tornado that had cut through the trees like that. It must not have been overly large, since their house was intact, but it was entirely too close for her liking. _Great,_ she thought to herself. _On top of everything else we must worry about, we also have to add tornadoes._

Still, the house appeared undamaged, and even the wildlife seemed to be venturing back out. They began to hear the usual bird calls and bug humming that had been absent – or at least inaudible – during the rainstorm.

“We need to check the roof,” Ziva said suddenly, her hand cupped over her eyes as she peered at the top of the cabin. The branch that had fallen was actually not a branch at all – it was an entire tree. Something of that weight could very easily compromise the integrity of the building, and it was something she’d rather deal with now instead of the next time a storm came.

Tony didn’t reply immediately, and she walked quickly to the rock face, finding that the footholds that had been there before were still perfectly intact. She began to scale the rock, her belly getting only slightly in the way, and soon she was on the upper edge of the rock face that had provided the natural side wall to their home. Tony turned around and caught sight of her just as she climbed up the few feet that led to her being on top of the cabin, and his eyes went wide with shock.

“Are you crazy? What are you doing up there?”

Ziva scoffed, for clearly she had made it up onto the roof just fine without his assistance. “What does it look like? I am examining the roof,” she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. And it _was,_ of course, but that hadn’t been what he’d meant.

“No, I mean why are you up there in your state? Are you trying to kill the both of you?” He walked to the edge of the house, standing nearest to where she examined the roof, ready to catch her if she were to fall. Granted, the house wasn’t that high, no more than eight or nine feet, but to fall would definitely cause her serious injury. Not to mention the baby.

Ziva glared at him. “I’m just checking the roof, Tony, relax. I am fine.” With that, she leaned down and proceeded to check on the roof, testing its sturdiness and looking for breaches in the structure. The tarp they’d lain over the top of the house was still mercifully intact, and the branch had landed hard on the house but had not punctured any holes in it. That seemed obvious enough based on the fact that they hadn’t needed to put any buckets down to catch water that leaked in, but she had wanted to double check.

“So now what, do you need me to bring the saw up there so we can cut it down?”

Ziva stood up again, examining the massive tree. It would take hours to cut it up and remove it. Not that they didn’t have the time, but she had a better idea. “You remember how we spent a lot of time camouflaging this roof?”

“Yeah, you had me running around the forest looking for tree branches and dirt and stuff,” he said, groaning. It was not his most pleasant memory since they’d come out here.

“Well, I think the tree actually makes it better,” she mused, stepping over the branch and looking at it from another angle. She eyed another nearby tree, wondering if she should climb up and take a birds-eye view, but Tony might actually pass out, judging by the way he watched her like a hawk and followed her every move.

For fuck’s sake, she was only _pregnant._ A little climbing wasn’t going to kill her.

“Yeah?”

Was he doubting her? “You wanna come up and see for yourself?”

“No, I think I should stay down here and watch just in case you get suddenly dizzy or misstep or something.” She rolled her eyes. Tony wasn’t fooling her at all. Yes, he absolutely _did_ want to be there to catch her if she fell, but he was also not a big fan of heights. It wasn’t even that high.

She looked up, pretending to be lost in thought. “Maybe I should climb the tree, just to be sure that everything blends in,” she said absently, heading toward it like she was really going to climb.

“Ziva,” he warned, and she laughed. _Gotcha,_ she thought to herself, and Tony took his turn glaring. He didn’t know why she liked to push his buttons so much, when he was only trying to concern himself with her wellbeing, seeing as she wasn’t always concerned with it herself. And she had the baby to worry about now, too.

“Relax, Tony,” she pleaded, her irritation rising at the way he watched her like a hawk. Yes, she knew that she was pregnant and that she should be careful, but she _was_ being careful. And he wouldn’t have wanted to be the one to climb up here himself. Why was this such a big deal?

“I just don’t want you to fall,” was all he said, though he still continued to watch her vigilantly, coming around to stand behind her when she finally lowered herself off the roof and onto the small rock cliff to climb back down. She could practically feel his fingertips grazing her skin as she took the rock face like a ladder, and she swallowed a huge sigh of annoyance, not wanting to start an argument.

The roof would likely hold, but the way the house had shaken when the tree fell had really worried her. It was commonly said that lightning did not strike the same place twice, but she didn’t believe that was necessarily the case, and another tree falling might cause the roof to fail.

“Just answer me one thing,” Tony began, waiting for her to turn around and face him. She did so, looking at him with only mild annoyance, and let him speak. “When are you going to start letting me help you instead of doing everything for yourself? Putting extra strain on your body like that? Putting yourself at _risk_ like that?”

“Tony,” she began, but she stopped, unable to respond. She leaned into him, much to his surprise, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, surprised to feel moisture on his shoulder. She certainly hadn’t meant to cry – hadn’t even been on the verge, if she was being honest – but here she was, her emotions suddenly overwhelming her again, as though she’d been inhabited by someone other than herself. She had _never_ been this weepy before.

“I know you mean to protect me, Tony,” she said softly, reaching up to wipe a tear from her face. “But I’m okay. _We’re_ okay. And I don’t want to feel like I’m incapable of doing anything. All my life,” she paused, sniffling. “All my life, I’ve been told I’m weak because of being a woman. I had to fight harder than everyone around me for everything. And it’s so hard for me to let go of control and let someone else handle things for me. I’m so … so _used_ to proving to myself and everyone around me that I can do everything that it’s just automatic.”

“Hey now,” he said, rubbing her back soothingly.

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I really didn’t. I just … climbing up that wall was never anything before, but now suddenly it’s this big deal and I didn’t want you to make it one.”

“But I did,” he said, the realization dawning on him. He hadn’t meant it, but he’d made her feel bad regardless.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as he held her, letting her cry it out.

He felt her smile against his skin. “I’m sorry too,” she said, and she squeezed him gently.

“For what? You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said, stepping back and looking at her in bewilderment.

“For worrying you,” was all she said before wiping her eyes and turning away, returning to the work of surveying the damage done by the storm. They’d been incredibly lucky that it hadn’t been more severe.

“I’m gonna worry about you regardless,” was all he said, and she turned her head over her shoulder to catch his eye, smiling at him gently and nodding her understanding.

For now that they were beginning to feel more and more like they were a family instead of just partners, she couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment, even if she couldn’t seem to find the words to give a voice to it just yet.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 11 on Saturday!


	11. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva struggles with the discomforts of pregnancy.

Ziva turned, sighing in frustration as she clutched a rumpled t-shirt against her. She was pretty sure that she’d read in some magazine quite a long time ago that sleeping with a pillow under her belly during pregnancy would help her be more comfortable, but she didn’t _have_ another pillow, and the t-shirt hadn’t worked, at least not yet.

She was sweating, and she threw the covers off her body, sucking in a breath at the sudden rush of cool air against her skin. Too hot with the covers, but not warm enough to sleep without them. Wonderful. She sighed again, twisting to face the other direction, noting as she did that Tony was oblivious to her plight, dead asleep and snoring lightly.

 _Lucky,_ she thought to herself, heaving another sigh. She turned again and sat up, shuffling her legs over the edge of the bed. Her legs felt as though they were running, in a constant state of motion, and her muscles ached as though she had stretched them and strained them for hours, but neither had been the case. Still, the more she tried to lie still, the more they protested, sending signals to her brain that she should not sleep.

Ziva slid out of bed.

She had no earthly idea what time it was, obviously, but judging by the darkness in the house, it wasn’t anywhere close to dawn. Unfortunately, however, her body didn’t seem to notice or care that she was supposed to be sleeping, and the baby protested against her skin, kicking her roughly. “Yes, I know, little one,” she spoke softly, trying not to wake Tony. Only one of them needed to suffer this, and what Tony didn’t know about her lack of sleep would not hurt him.

She was sure that everything would be _fine._

Looking around, she decided that the house needed to be cleaned. There was no light save for a sliver of moonlight coming through the shuttered window, but her eyes had adjusted well enough to the darkness. She couldn’t see perfectly, but she could see enough, and that was all that she needed to keep her restless mind from going crazy. Scanning the room, she spotted the rag that she usually used to wipe down surfaces and set to work, wetting it slightly with some water from an urn and wiping the top of the shelf. She lifted up the various items that sat on the top of the shelf, cleaning underneath them, one by one. If she couldn’t clean herself to exhaustion simply by doing the shelf, she could clean each individual item on top of it, and if that didn’t work, there would be the table, and then maybe the floor.

She hummed softly to herself, careful not to wake Tony up, but needing her own soundtrack to clean to. Ziva had never particularly enjoyed cleaning, rather counted it as something necessary to be done, but she was learning to embrace it as part of becoming a mother. She couldn’t very well have her baby crawling around in the dirt, putting all kinds of disgusting things in his or her mouth, could she?

“No,” she said softly to herself, and scrubbed the shelf more vigorously. The shelf wasn’t very high, but she noticed that she was having some trouble reaching the back part of it, so she opened the door to the house just for a moment so that she could gather something she could stand on. Just as she opened the door, however, she heard the sound of the blanket behind her rustling, and she turned to find Tony starting to sit up slowly. _Shit._

“What… is it morning yet?” His eyes were still closed, and he seemed reluctant to open them. Despite her guilt at waking him up, her heart swelled with just how adorable he was, all sleepy and confused in his lack of lucidity.

“No, Tony, go back to sleep. I am sorry to have woken you,” she said softly, hoping that he would do as he was told and lie back down.

Tony, naturally, did not listen, wiping his face with his hand and finally opening his eyes, catching sight of her once his vision adjusted to the darkness. She was wearing only a large t-shirt – one of the ones she’d made for _him_ , he noted – that accentuated her growing belly, and she was holding a rag in one hand, her hair messy, as she had apparently worked herself into a frenzy by cleaning their house. “Why… what are you doing?” he asked, confused. Ziva needed to sleep; the baby needed her to sleep.

“I cannot sleep, Tony. It is fine, please go back to sleep, I will come back to bed in a bit, I promise.”

“Are you _cleaning?”_ he asked, ignoring her directive to go back to sleep.

“I cannot sleep with the house dirty like it is,” she shrugged, and turned to continue wiping the shelf she had been working on before he had woken up, forgetting, in her frustration, that she hadn’t been able to reach part of the shelf earlier and she had been meaning to get something to stand on.

Tony set his feet on the floor – the _clean_ floor – he noted, and lifted the cover away from his frame, trying to stifle the shiver that went through him as the cold air hit his body. “Ziva, it’s cold out here, and the house is fine. You could eat off this floor.”

She turned and glared at him. “You would let your child eat off this floor?” Tony had no immediate response to that, and she gloated inwardly, knowing that she had won.

“I probably wouldn’t let anyone eat off any floor, but my point remains. It’s clean.” He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, just watching her work, worrying about whatever state she’d gotten herself into that had led her to believe that she needed to be up in the middle of the night and cleaning in the dark. How could she even tell if the house was clean without any light? He continued, trying to reason with her. “The baby isn’t coming tonight. I think it can wait until the morning. At least wait until you’ve slept some.”

Ziva turned again, meeting his gaze in the darkness, what little she could see of it, at least. “I would love to, Tony, but I have already told you that I cannot sleep.” She sounded exhausted, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering, wishing for all the world that he could take it away from her and take on the burden – or at least some of it – himself. He stood up and crossed the room to her, gathering her in his arms and rubbing her back lightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair and brushing a strand of it off of her face. “Can I do anything to help? Back rub? Foot rub? Any other kind of rub?” He punctuated the last bit with a raise of his eyebrow, and Ziva smirked at him.

“I doubt that would help,” she sighed, allowing him to comfort her in what small way he could.

“Come to bed and let me at least try?” he suggested, drawing back slightly to gauge her response. “You need to rest, even if you don’t actually fall asleep.”

“All right, you can try,” she said, smiling in spite of herself. Even if she didn’t sleep, she still desired him, and he was so insistent that he could help her fall asleep.

She followed him to the bed, crawling in beside him, and almost immediately, he was kissing her, his mouth working hers expertly. Kissing him never got old, and she reveled in the way he held her tightly against him, pressing her body insistently against his own, claiming her with a bite to her bottom lip.

“I love you,” she breathed against him as he reached to touch her, and she arched into him, letting him bring her to pleasure as she clung to him, desperate for release.

Afterwards, as they lay together, Tony already drifting off to sleep, Ziva watched his face in the moonlight, envious of how easily he could fall asleep. Lovingly, she brushed a strand of hair away from his face, her heart aching with tenderness toward him. These quiet moments, late at night when the world was still … these were the moments when she felt so keenly aware of how much she had come to need him by her side. He had become so _much_ to her.

His arm was slung loosely over her waist, laying there but with no tension. Tony was completely relaxed, and he had obviously fallen back to sleep, their lovemaking working to tire at least _one_ of them out. Ziva continued to watch him. The rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes seemed to dart behind his eyelids, the way his nostrils flared as he exhaled. He was so at peace, so relaxed.

So loved.

Ziva closed her eyes, trying to will herself to fall asleep, but it was no use. No matter how she shifted, no matter which way she breathed, no matter what she tried to think about – or _not_ think about – she couldn’t fall asleep. Her legs had that restless feeling about them again, and she fought the urge to get out of bed and resume the cleaning she had started earlier.

But Tony was soundly asleep, and lying here staring at him was doing nothing to ease her anxiety, that unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept her from being able to fully relax and sink into sleep. If she was lucky, she’d come back to bed and doze for about an hour, and that would have to be enough.

She pressed her lips to his cheek, whispering, “I love you,” as she slid out of bed stealthily, being careful not to wake him as she left the comfort of his arms. How she wished that his embrace had been enough to comfort her to sleep, but for some reason it hadn’t.

A pang of regret shot through her as she looked at his peacefully sleeping form. _I should be with him,_ a voice inside her head told her, and while she knew that it was true, she never could just lie idly in a bed when sleep had eluded her in the past. Maybe she needed to do something physical. _Like sex?_

“Obviously not,” she mouthed to herself with a roll of her eyes, careful not to speak the words so she wouldn’t wake him. She finally crossed to the other side of the cabin, picking up the same rag she’d been using earlier, and began to work at scrubbing some of their tools.

Tony didn’t stir, and when she finally crawled back in bed near dawn, exhausted enough to close her eyes and let sleep claim her for just a short while, he was none the wiser when they both got out of bed to begin the day just shy of two hours later than she’d gotten back out of bed at all.

She didn’t tell him.

* * *

It was becoming routine, waking up in the middle of the night to find Ziva hard at work, scrubbing at things that didn’t need to be scrubbed, doing anything but sleeping like she should have been. He’d begun to lose count of the number of nights he’d woken to find her gone, but it was somewhere past ten, he was sure of that.

Tony missed her, missed having her curled up in his arms, comfortable and safe with him as she drifted off, but more than anything, he was really worried about her. It couldn’t possibly be good for her body to get so little sleep, and he knew that the baby relied on her to be healthy, as well. He had to find a way to get her to sleep, to find out what it was that was bothering her so much that she felt this compulsion to get up and start cleaning the entire house.

“Ziva?” he asked, noting the way her shoulders slumped as he caught her again. Yet another night she’d been up, and another night he’d been unable to sleep through it. She knew he meant well, but she was fine, and she didn’t see why he should suffer along with her.

But they’d had that argument before, and it always seemed to lead to exactly this moment. Night after night, she repeated what had become a mantra. “I’m fine, Tony, go back to sleep.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a broken record, Ziva,” he said softly as he slid out from under the sleeping bag again, ignoring the cool night air as he walked toward her.

“I am saying it because it is true, not because I like repeating it. And it is not fair for you to get up every night. You should sleep, Tony. I will be fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine, Ziva, and I’ve been trying not to push it, but I’m starting to really worry about you, you know. The baby is gonna need his or her mama to be well-rested.” Giving her a back rub hadn’t worked, nor had sex. No matter what he tried, she always got back up after he’d fallen back asleep, and she only managed to sleep for a couple of hours a night.

“Is something bothering you? Is that why you can’t sleep?”

It was as if a dam burst and suddenly Ziva was weeping, her head drooping over the table she’d been scrubbing, her hair hanging down as the sobs wracked her body. Tony was across the room and wrapping his arms around her in a heartbeat, pulling her against him and kissing her shoulder, whispering words of comfort in her ear. “Tell me,” he begged, needing to know what was bothering her so much that she couldn’t seem to sleep, that she was currently crying her eyes out over a table that hadn’t been dirty enough for her to be cleaning in the first place.

“We’re not…” she paused, sniffling and gripping the fabric of his shirt, “we’re not _ready,_ Tony!”

“What do you mean we’re not ready?”

“We have… we have _nothing._ Where will she sleep? What are we going to do about diapers? How will we carry her on walks? We are not ready for this baby, and she will be here so soon! So much sooner than we think! And what if… what if she’s early?” It didn’t escape Tony’s notice that Ziva continued to refer to the baby as a girl almost constantly at this point, and he’d given up on trying to correct her or gently remind her that the baby might actually be a boy. This time was no exception to that. He hoped, for her sake, that the baby really was a girl, so that she wouldn’t feel invalidated as a mother for having guessed the gender wrong.

“So we’ll _get_ ready, Ziva. At first light. I promise, I’ll help you. We’ll do everything we can now, and get prepared.” He paused, taking a moment to kiss her cheek, saddened by the moisture he found there. He reached over and wiped her face as he spoke again, then touched her stomach gently, cradling the place where their baby was safely growing. “I’ll be honest, I figure we’ll have plenty of time. You don’t look like you’re ready to give birth just yet. You’re only a little huge,” he teased, noting how she started first to glare at him but then caught on to his joke, her expression softening. “The baby’s still growing. But we’ll be ready, I promise.”

He pulled away slightly so he could catch her gaze. “Okay, Ziva?” She nodded, and he reached up and wiped the other cheek, the one still wet with her tears. “And you gotta _talk_ to me, honey. We’ve always communicated well with each other, and there have been times when we haven’t always need words, but I can’t read your mind if something’s bothering you. Okay?”

She nodded again, letting out a shaky sigh. The crying had done a number on her system, but somehow, she felt a lot lighter, now that she’d finally let her fears out. “Okay,” she agreed, and she sank back into him, letting him hold her close, delighting in the way he rubbed her back and hummed quietly against her. Judging by the way he sang such soothing melodies to _her_ when she was sleepy, she was certain that Tony would be an excellent father.

Maybe she should tell him that. “You will be such a good dad, Tony,” she breathed into his chest, so quietly that she wasn’t sure he’d heard her, at least not until he’d stiffened against her.

“Really?”

It was her turn to back away, looking at him earnestly. “Really,” she said, nodding slightly. “You’re always here to offer comfort when I need it, and you’re singing that song – like a lullaby, I guess – and… I just feel so much better. Our baby will be so lucky to have you.”

“She’ll be luckier to have you,” Tony whispered, giving her a slight squeeze as she leaned back into his embrace.

“She?” Even though she tried, Ziva could not keep the amusement out of her tone.

“Maybe you’ve convinced me that we’re having a girl.” He paused, a grin lighting up his face as he reached again to the side of her stomach, palming their child. The baby pushed against his hand, causing him to pat her stomach in response. Just because the baby wasn’t born yet didn’t mean he couldn’t play with her. Or him. “But I think, for everyone’s sake, we had better not call him or her by name until we know for sure.”

“You’re probably right.” They hadn’t talked about names yet, but that would come soon enough. It was as Tony said – the baby was not likely to come for a little while yet, though it was probably not common practice to rely entirely on how big her stomach was as a method of determining how pregnant she was. Not that they had much of a choice in this situation, but still. She _didn’t_ look like she was ready to “pop,” as he’d once said. She wondered what he would want to name her – _or him,_ she mentally corrected herself.

He took her by the hand, walking slowly toward the bed. “Come back to sleep?” He’d been asking her for what seemed like weeks now to come back to bed, every night. Then again, he hadn’t been keeping a very good count, so maybe it actually had been weeks. He’d heard in some fantasy lore about places that are time-lost, where time ceases to have meaning, and this place certainly almost seemed to fit the bill, though that was due to their general lack of any method to keep time as opposed to time not existing.

Ziva followed, letting him lead her to the bed. She crawled up first, taking the inside by the wall, and he slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her as soon as her head hit the pillow. He lovingly stroked her belly and kissed her shoulder before lifting the blanket up and over their bodies to keep them warm. Tony had grown wise to her sneaking out of bed at night and so he had insisted that he take the outside, but it hadn’t stopped her from getting out of the bed, and despite the change in her body, she was just as stealthy as she’d ever been. She’d had no trouble slipping out without his notice even when she’d had to climb over him. Once a ninja, always a ninja.

His hand was warm against her stomach even through her clothing, and she reached to interlock her fingers with his, giving them a slight squeeze. “Good night, Tony,” she breathed, and she smiled at his response.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered back, kissing her neck affectionately, causing her to shrug her shoulders against the way his lips tickled. She’d never been ticklish before Tony, and now she found that there were several spots that elicited that reaction.

It wasn’t long before she could hear him beginning to snore, and she knew that he had fallen asleep. This time, however, she didn’t feel the urge to get out of bed the way she usually had. Her legs were relaxed, finally, and she felt almost boneless, like her entire being was beginning to sink into the bed and into Tony and into sleep. It was a welcome feeling, one she hadn’t felt in quite a while, and she closed her eyes with a sigh, certain that tonight, she would finally sleep more than her usual hour.

Something summoned her awake, some sort of rhythm serenading to her from between the veil of consciousness and unconsciousness, and she opened her eyes to daylight only to find that Tony was not in the bed with her. Had she slept? Soundly? So soundly that Tony had managed to get out of bed and was outside, no doubt doing something that had stirred her to wakefulness?

Ziva sat up on the bed and stretched, rolling her neck to wash away the last remnants of sleep. It felt _amazing_ to finally have rest, even if it had only been half a night’s worth. She was certain that she would sleep even better tonight; that her body had somehow recalled that sleep was good and useful.

When she finally stepped out of the bed, she noted that the rhythmic sound outside had stopped, and she wondered what, exactly, the sound had been. No doubt it had something to do with Tony. What had he been up to, that he’d gone outside to work on it alone, and he’d left her to sleep?

She scoffed at herself. The last thing Tony would have done, after _finally_ seeing her sleeping soundly, would be to wake her up, even if whatever the matter was had been pressing. He would have handled it himself. Unless it was Widow, but judging by the fact that things sounded fairly calm – and the fact that Tony had let her sleep, because he _definitely_ would have wakened her for that, she made an educated guess that they had not arrived this morning while she was asleep.

Padding to the doorway without bothering to put on shoes, she rubbed her belly absently as she reached for the door and pushed it open. Her eyes widened at what she saw: Tony, wearing only a pair of shorts, bent over what appeared to be a bassinet that he’d put together using branches of varying sizes, all trimmed down as neatly as possible to have no twigs shooting off of them. Ziva noted the saw tossed aside, thinking that his sawing must have woken her up, and then she noticed what else he was doing. The bassinet looked quite a lot like a basket, if she was being honest with her assessment of it, but she knew exactly what purpose it was meant to serve based on their conversation last night.

Tony had a stone in his hand, one of the types that looked to be very brittle, and he was rubbing it against the wood of one of the spokes on the bassinet he’d built, sanding it down. Of course they couldn’t have their child in a bed that would give them splinters, so he’d improvised something to take the place of sandpaper.

Not three feet away from where the bassinet sat with Tony working on it, she noted two other large baskets he’d woven, as well, both of which appeared to be just the size for a baby to be carried in, and that both of the baskets had what appeared to be toys, some he’d carved out of wood, and even a doll he’d made with some leftover squirrel hides. She began to wonder if they could make their child a quite literal stuffed animal, but perhaps that would be a bit on the creepy side of things.

He hadn’t noticed that she’d awakened yet, and he continued to work methodically at sanding the bassinet, moving to another one of the rungs. “What’s all this?”

Tony turned suddenly to meet her gaze, smiling sheepishly as he glanced at everything he’d been working on. He’d been up for hours, and he’d let her sleep, all so he could surprise her with everything. “We’ll be ready for her,” was all he said, and if Ziva noticed the pronoun use she ignored it as she stepped over to him, crouched down on the ground, and kissed him needily, pouring her entire being into the embrace.

Ziva was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. He had not only listened to her concerns, letting her cry it out as she’d worried about what would happen, but he’d acted on remedying them at his earliest opportunity, doing everything he could to ease her worries. “Thank you,” she breathed when she pulled away, their foreheads touching and their eyes meeting.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he breathed, his shoulders heaving with the breath he was still catching. “I would have done all this sooner if I’d known it was bothering you so much.”

“I know, Tony,” she said, palming his cheek with her hand and stroking his lips lovingly with her thumb. “I should have talked to you sooner.”

He shook his head, leaning in to kiss her again, giving quick, simple kisses as he held her close, wanting nothing more than to hold her close and kiss her repeatedly. She had nothing to be sorry for, and he didn’t want her to feel guilty about being unable to open up. “Everything will be okay,” he said softly when he pulled back, gazing into her eyes. “You just tell me what you need and we’ll make sure we’re ready for this baby, okay?”

Ziva nodded, her eyes welling up with tears for what seemed the hundredth time. She reached up to wipe the corner of her eyes, laughing slightly at herself. If there was one thing she hadn’t expected about pregnancy, it had been the way she got teary-eyed at such insignificant things. “None of that,” he whispered, rubbing one of the errant tears with his thumb as he pulled her into a hug, holding her close and letting her draw comfort from him as long as she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 12 on Wednesday.


	12. Killer Mother Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has a renewed interest in finding Widow and/or Tony and Ziva. Tony and Ziva continue to prepare for the birth of their child.

 

“Absolutely nothing, Boss. Widow has just vanished.” McGee was frustrated, as he’d gone over every last piece of evidence he could find. Again. He’d gone through both Tony’s and Ziva’s apartments multiple times, pulling _anything_ that looked like it would lead them somewhere, and absolutely nothing had given them any information on where Tony and Ziva might have gone. But now that the terrorists had made the bold move of blowing up his car in an attempt to kill him, the case had been reopened, and so he had to go through all of this again, this time with the added task of locating the terrorist cell and taking them out before they could actually kill anyone. “And so have Tony and Ziva.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t secretly glad that they were back to looking into this, even though they were all so frustrated at the lack of leads, but he wouldn’t dare speak that out loud, considering his brush with death. It had been close to two months now since the explosion, and although they’d opened the case and gone through the evidence with renewed vigor, they were still no closer to locating Tony and Ziva than they had been when they’d first disappeared.

“Well, yeah, McGee. That was the idea.”

“I _still_ can’t believe they didn’t tell us they were leaving.” Abby was pouting, which, McGee noted, was par for the course these days. He suppressed a sigh. She wasn’t exactly helping here, what with her annoyance at the two agents who had gone into hiding, apparently, and who had done a stellar job of it. Abby had never been the type to deal positively with change. And it had been nearly a year now. Pouting wasn’t going to do her any good, and it honestly sort of annoyed McGee at this point.

He set Ziva’s cleaned laptop off to the side, pinching his brow between his thumb and his forefinger. It was obvious that Tony and Ziva didn’t want to be found. “They’re _good.”_ He was exasperated, and he _hated_ feeling like this about a case. Particularly when a case was centered around his friends.

“Ziva trained for this her whole life, and Tony is a pro at following her lead,” Abby said, finally dropping the woe-is-me attitude as she took a sip of her Caf-Pow. “So _yeah.”_

“I was talking about Widow, but yes, so are they,” McGee replied, rubbing his forehead and heaving a deep sigh.

Gibbs took a swig of his coffee, setting it down on the table beside them. “Good,” he said with a nod, and both McGee and Abby stared at him as though he had just lost his mind. “That most likely means the terrorists can’t find them, either.”

 _“Truuuuuue,”_ Abby breathed, drawing out the word in an exaggerated sigh of relief. It didn’t keep her from worrying about the _other_ things Tony and Ziva could have gotten into, but it helped that the terrorists probably couldn’t locate them. Probably. It was a small comfort, considering they could be _anywhere._ They could be in the middle of a natural disaster, or a war zone, or a prison cell. They could be stranded on a desert island. Each new scenario Abby painted in her mind made her worry even _more_ about the pair, despite knowing that they’d probably be able to handle literally _anything_ that came their way. It was kind of what they _did._ She’d had this exact conversation with Timmy at least seventeen times, but it still didn’t keep her from being worried.

“That doesn’t mean to stop,” Gibbs reminded them, and McGee picked up Tony’s cell phone again, hoping to gather more data off of it, despite knowing that it would be a dead end.

“We still need to find them before the terrorists do,” McGee agreed.

“Or find the terrorists before they find Tony and Ziva,” Abby added. Whether they’d left the country or not, neither of them had taken any of their weapons along with them, which meant that they’d be vulnerable, or at least more vulnerable than Ziva was used to being. Ziva, who had prided herself on never being armed less than three times over – more, if she could help it – had not taken a single one of her weapons with her wherever they’d gone, and Tony’s apartment had all of his registered weapons still right where he’d left them, as well.

Sure, they might have purchased arms when they’d gotten to wherever they’d gone, but McGee suspected that they hadn’t. Nothing would look more suspicious in most places than people buying a ton of guns all at once, and in order to amass the kind of weaponry that Ziva was used to, they’d have no way to avoid standing out. He didn’t know for sure, but he was betting that they’d tried to keep as low a profile as possible wherever they’d gone. He was no expert on disappearing, but that’s what he’d have done.

All of this meant that if Widow found them, they’d be severely outgunned. McGee knew that it wasn’t something that Ziva had ever really concerned herself with, stating that she could handle any threat, but now she also had to concern herself with keeping Tony safe, something which McGee assumed would slow her down, or possibly impair her judgment.

McGee wasn’t a fool, he knew that Tony and Ziva were close, perhaps closer than they’d ever been. He wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised that they’d taken off together, even if the threat had only initially been aimed at Ziva. Ziva had come to rely on Tony, trusting him more deeply than any other partner she’d ever had. Ziva could handle herself, but the question was, could Ziva handle herself _and_ Tony?

He sighed, his worry rising. Had the threat come while they had all still been federal agents, they might have had a banner of protection under which they could fight back. But they’d resigned, and that was the moment when the terrorists had chosen to reveal themselves. If he were a terrorist, he reasoned, he would have gone after his target at that opportune moment, too. What more could Tony or Ziva have done? They couldn’t have fought against Widow, and they couldn’t have gone to other law enforcement officials, not if they’d needed immediate help. McGee couldn’t have helped them all on his own with his _own_ status as a resigned agent, and he doubted that Vance would have been able to give them much without his own hands being tied.

They’d really had no choice, and while he couldn’t really blame them for doing what they’d done, he had grown frustrated that they’d been so damn good at it. The message left by Widow – both their written message _and_ their exploding one – had been abundantly clear: they would search the entire world if they had to, they would kill Ziva and take out Tony, too, simply for helping her, and anyone else they could take care of. And most importantly, they would not give up until that end had been reached.

“I’ve been over everything we have on Tony and Ziva. Why don’t we shift gears and only try to look for Widow instead?” McGee supplied, thinking that it might be easier for them to draw the terrorists out than to locate his friends. Neither option sounded that appealing, at this point, but he was looking for another angle.

“They’ve gone underground, too,” Gibbs reminded him, and McGee sighed again. Nothing about this was easy. Tony and Ziva were two vital members of their team and they were _gone,_ and the new members had become valuable assets in their own rights, but they weren’t Tony or Ziva. McGee felt unbelievably frustrated every time he wanted to ask for Tony’s insight or Ziva’s expertise. He missed them, terribly. He and Gibbs had spent so much of their spare time trying to figure out something that would lead them to Tony and Ziva so they could make sure that the pair stayed _safe,_ but he kept running into brick walls.

In addition, just by looking for the pair, everyone working the case knew that they opened up the potential risk of Widow watching them, of using the same intel they were gathering in order to find Tony and Ziva themselves. They had to be more careful than they’d ever been, while simultaneously working harder than they ever had. Tony and Ziva’s lives depended on it, and McGee was more terrified than he’d ever been while working on a case.

“McGee,” Gibbs prodded, noting how the younger agent had gone back to looking for leads, more fervently than he had before, if it was even possible. “If we can’t find them, neither can Widow.”

“You said that already. But just because _we_ can’t find them, doesn’t mean that something we find won’t lead Widow right to them. We don’t have the eyes we’re used to having. We don’t have the resources we usually do. We’re crippled without Tony or Ziva, and we have nothing to go on. I’ve _got_ to make sure that we get to them first, boss, I’ve _got_ to.”

With that, he set back to work. Even Agent Thompson, who had been doing her best to assist with the case, felt his frustration. She wasn’t stupid, and she knew that McGee would rather have his former teammates back. She glanced over at him, not wanting to speak up but at the same time, wishing she could offer some sort of comfort.

Thompson and Pruitt weren’t usually around for these meetings, as Gibbs usually sent them out on leads for their other cases, but it really didn’t hurt to get a few more eyes on the situation and see if they couldn’t find something that the others hadn’t seen. Both of them had offered small insights where they felt they could be useful. The thing was, and McGee knew this as well as anybody, Gibbs didn’t fully trust them yet, and bringing them in on a case of this magnitude, even if their knowledge could be useful, wasn’t something he was keen on doing. If anything, he allowed them only a superficial read-in on the case, which really didn’t allow them to have any success with it. Gibbs simply couldn’t risk one of his two new agents being some sort of mole who would feed information to the terrorists. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime, and now he was especially cautious, even after having vetted both Probationary Agents personally.

Just then, the Director stepped down and into the bullpen, noting the presence of the two newer agents. Usually, Vance only suspected that Gibbs and McGee were on “Tony and Ziva patrol,” as he called it, when Thompson and Pruitt were out of the building. “Anything?” Director Vance asked, looking over at Gibbs and back at McGee. Despite the newbies being in the bullpen, both Gibbs and McGee knew that Vance wasn’t asking about their murdered Marine.

“Nothing, sir,” McGee spoke up, shaking his head. “Just like the last time. They covered their tracks exceptionally well.”

“Gibbs?”

Gibbs shrugged as he looked from McGee over to the Director. “We’ve got nothing. We think they used cash for all transactions. They probably traveled under disguises and pseudonyms. Nothing on the airport video feeds from the dates in question. Their cars were left at their apartments. None of their neighbors saw or heard anything. Ziva trained for this exact scenario, Leon. She knew what she was doing, and DiNozzo trusts her enough to follow her lead to the letter. The only thing we know for sure is that Widow hasn’t found them yet.”

Vance nodded, though he had heard most of this before. “Well if that’s the only positive we’ve got, then that’s what we’ll run with,” he said wryly, giving them both a cursory nod. “Don’t burn out on this, all right? We’ll follow leads when Widow gives us a reason to, but if you’re not having any luck finding them, then neither is Widow.”

McGee noted how everyone kept saying that, but it still didn’t ease his worries. Widow might be acting desperate now, but it could be just that – an act. He voiced his concern. “Well maybe they’ve found Tony and Ziva already, but they want us to think they haven’t.”

Both Gibbs and Vance seemed to ponder that for a minute, but both shook their heads after a moment. “That’s not the typical terrorist’s way of doing things,” Gibbs said, and Vance agreed.

“They would brag about it. They’d be here almost immediately, blaring their triumph for all of us to see, issuing warnings about messing with them. Trust me, Agent McGee, if they find Tony and Ziva before we do, we’ll know about it.”

McGee nodded, but Abby spoke up first. “Well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

* * *

The baby was kicking rather vigorously, and Ziva placed her hand soothingly on her stomach, as though her mere touch, through layers of skin and membranes and all else, would settle the active child. If anything, the baby seemed to thrive on the feeling of something, rising to the challenge and pushing against it.

Definitely _her_ child.

She chuckled inwardly, scooting ever so slightly so that she could prop a makeshift pillow under her stomach, and Tony shifted beside her, asking sleepily, “Is the baby kicking again?”

“A lot, actually,” she replied, and she reached for his hand, circling it around her waist and allowing him to feel. The baby was most active at night, right as they lay down to sleep. It was almost as if the baby was trying to sleep during the day, so when it was time for its mother to sleep, it repaid the favor, keeping her awake. Tony loved feeling the baby kick almost as much as she did, but she had a front-row seat to it all the time, and he only got to feel it some of the time.

“I still can’t believe it.” Tony’s voice was quiet as he leaned over and kissed her shoulder, his hand resting protectively over the constant thumping on her stomach. “A little human. Half you, half me. We’re going to be parents.”

“I’m…” she trailed off, swallowing slightly. Pregnancy was fairly easy, even if she had to adjust to the way her body had accommodated the growing life within her. She loved the feeling of the baby kicking, those little flutters of life making her heart so unbelievably happy. How long she’d wanted this for herself, and now, to experience this with Tony, the only man that had been there for her no matter what, she could hardly contain her joy.

Still, she was nervous about the upcoming birth. Perhaps if she’d had a child before and she knew what to expect it would be better, but she didn’t have any of that experience behind her. Tony also did not know the first thing about giving birth. The closest they’d come had been that one case where they’d assisted a Lieutenant with the birth of her child, and even that hadn’t really given her any knowledge about what to do. The Lieutenant had been prepared to have a child, and she’d done what any expectant mother does – read books, went to the doctor, asked questions. Ziva didn’t have any of that to rely on.

“You’re?” he prompted, giving her the space to open up, and squeezing her slightly.

“I’m worried about giving birth,” she finally admitted. “We have no idea what to do,” she said, turning her head toward him, glancing at his face from the corner of her eye.

Propping himself up on his elbow so that they could see each other better, Tony rubbed his hand protectively up and down her growing belly. “I thought all women kind of just know all this stuff. Instinct.” He shrugged, unsure how to explain himself.

“My instincts have not always been the motherly kind, Tony,” she sighed, bracing her hands so that she could turn and face him. Even turning in bed had grown more challenging with pregnancy, but she refused to let the pregnancy keep her from doing anything she had before, which was something Tony wasn’t always too thrilled about.

Tony grimaced. She had him there – her instincts were good, but they were far from motherly. “You’ll develop the mothering ones in time, I’m sure. But you really don’t know what to do at all?”

“Would I be worried if I did?” Tony had to admit that she had him there. Nearly every step of the way, Ziva had been calmly and collectedly prepared for everything they’d run across. She’d methodically planned every single step of their disappearance, then their trek through the forest, building their shelter, and even keeping themselves alive. He had only seen her lose face for merely a few moments, as she had been fully confident in her abilities to both live off the land and teach him how to, as well. This was one of only a handful of times he had seen her falter since they’d been here.

“Okay,” he paused, taking a breath. “No, you would not,” he admitted.

“What happens if I cannot–”

“You _can,”_ he interrupted, putting his finger in front of her lips to silence her. “There is no one more capable of this than you.” For Ziva to doubt herself now, when she’d come so far, it was almost unthinkable. Ziva was the strongest person he’d ever known.

“Well yes, of the two of us, I think I am the one capable of giving birth here,” she retorted, smirking despite her worry.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she sobered up, looking at him intently.

She nodded. “I know.”

“But you’re sure you don’t know _anything?_ There has to be something you know. Or some kind of instinct you’re going to have somewhere along the way. Right?”

“I hope so.”

“Why don’t we like… try to disguise ourselves or something, and find our way to a hospital? We can find an inconspicuous way to mark our way back to the house afterwards, and then we know that you’ll be well taken care of.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a huge risk. And they didn’t even know which direction to go to return to any part of civilization. If they left today, they might not even make it before she gave birth anyway, given the amount of time it had taken them to find this location in the first place.

“Absolutely not.”

“But you’re so worried–”

“We cannot.” She took his hands in hers, giving them a strong, resolute squeeze. “Even if we manage to disguise ourselves well enough that we would not be recognized by facial recognition – which is nearly impossible, I may add – we would be found out by DNA. There will be blood and bodily fluids. We have no way to guarantee that it doesn’t get matched to us somehow. They will do blood tests. It will flag, because I am all but certain that Widow has some kind of watch in place to locate us.” She took a breath, then remembered the other thing he had mentioned. “We cannot really disguise ourselves, not properly. I do not have any way to color my hair, even though the sun has lightened it a bit. And you look almost exactly the same, aside from your facial hair. It is too risky.” His facial hair was little more than scruff at this point, as he did his best to keep himself as shaven as possible. Ziva had helped him learn to manage shaving without a typical razor or a mirror.

“But you’re worried about–”

“We will have to figure it out. Both of us, we just have to think about everything we know or have seen or heard about childbirth, and go from there. You told me a while back that women have always done this, even before modern technology came around. There _has_ to be some sort of instinct, like you said. It would not make sense for the survival of humans as a species if we did not have that. We will have to rely on that. I will have to trust my body.”

“I _definitely_ trust your body,” he said suggestively, his eyes darkening with lust as he scanned her form, her skin a bit darker from their constant exposure to the sun and her body curvaceous with the swell of their child. She was absolutely gorgeous to him like this, and he needed her to know how much he still desired her.

“Tony,” she admonished, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Ziva had become much better about his very frequent displays of affection, but it was still something she’d had to adjust to, even despite the fact that she was now very pregnant with his child.

He leaned forward, reaching between them to rub her belly again, his forehead touching hers. “We’ll be okay, Ziva,” he promised, leaning forward and capturing her mouth in his, his hand tangling in her hair as she allowed him access.

“We have been so far,” she agreed, letting out a slight gasp as he began to nibble at her neck. She arched her head back enough to give him the access he desired, and he began kissing a trail down her neck, nibbling at her collarbone before coming back up, seeking her lips again. She kissed him back hungrily, her body straining toward his. She began to feel the heat pooling between her legs as desire washed over her, and she reached toward him, grabbing his ass and pulling him toward her, frustrated that her belly didn’t give him the access she craved.

“Roll around to your other side,” he directed, and she complied, scooting herself backward and against him, feeling his erection hot against her ass as she settled into him. He groaned as she ground her way into him, finally finding the friction she had craved.

Tony snaked his hand around her waist, reaching for the underwear she’d been wearing and sliding his hand underneath, running his fingers through the coarse hairs there. She bucked her hips against him, reveling in the way he sucked in a breath as her moisture collided with his hard-on, even through the layers they were both still wearing. “Want you,” she breathed unevenly, and without hesitation, he reached to pull the panties down, helping her to kick them off so he would have better access.

Almost immediately, his hand was back between her legs, teasing and playing at her moisture. “So wet for me,” he gasped, and she bucked her hips toward him, chasing the fingers she knew were teasing but not giving what she so desperately craved. He slid one finger inside her, then another, curling his fingers and twisting them around in just the right way to make her arch her back against him, panting for breath. His expert touch was amazing, but it wasn’t enough, not this time, and while she loved foreplay and all that went into it, right now she just needed him inside of her.

“Like I said,” she groaned, seeking his hand with her hips another time, _“want you.”_

“Impatient,” he growled, but he didn’t hesitate to give her what she wanted. With his free hand, Tony worked himself free of the pants he’d been wearing and scooted forward, his hot erection poking between her ass, so deliciously close to where she needed and craved him the most. He thrust against her a few times, running his dick along the moisture of her wet folds, but he was still teasing, still not sliding into her, where she was desperate to feel him.

 _“Tony,”_ she warned, arching her back as best as she could in her state, desperate for him to simply thrust inside her and _fuck_ her already.

“Oh,” he teased, rocking his hips toward her slowly but deliberately not entering her, “Is _this,”_ he poked just at her entrance, teasing before pulling away, “what you want?”

“Fuck– _yes,_ fucking…” she stuttered, her need for him overtaking her ability to form rational thought. _“Please,”_ she begged as he teased at her entrance again, _“please,_ Tony.”

Finally, he entered her, and she cried out at the feeling of joining with him, being one with him. He groaned at the way her tight heat enveloped him, staying seated within her for just a few moments, feeling her pulsing around him, before he withdrew and began to thrust back against her. Slowly, he moved, drawing out each thrust before slamming back into her, causing her to scream with pleasure, her body welcoming the intrusion, clenching him tightly with each hard thrust against her. “Oh, _fuck!”_ she cried, pressing her ass tightly against him, needing to feel him as deep as he could possibly get.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunted, picking up the pace only slightly, delighting in the way she moaned against him, the way she reached around her stomach to touch herself as he loved her, delighting in the way she helped him bring her pleasure.

She was hardly able to move against him due to the way her stomach now restricted her movement, but she circled her hips toward him nonetheless, and soon he could feel himself hurtling toward the edge of release. “Ziva,” he warned, leaning forward to suck on her shoulder. “Oh, fuck, I’m so close,” he groaned, and she turned her head to meet his, kissing him hungrily as he thrust unevenly against her.

“Come, Tony,” she breathed against his lips, clenching around him on one particularly deep thrust. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’re… sure?” His words were shaky, so she knew he was struggling to hold himself together. God, but he was so exquisite in this state, his body covered in sweat, his face knotted with how hard he was concentrating on getting them both off. She loved watching him work them both into a frenzy.

“Positive, Tony… _oh!”_ She cried as he slammed into her, the force almost knocking the breath out of her. She continued to rub at her clit as he pounded into her, begging him for more.

“Yes, Tony, _yes! Oh! Just… like… that!”_ He was ramming against her, his balls slapping against her with each hard thrust. She loved it rough, and somehow he had known that this was exactly what she needed. _“That’s how I like it!”_ She gasped, her release building rapidly.

She began to pulse around him, her body seeming to unwind as the pleasure washed over her, her body slick with sweat and her breath coming heavily. Her entire body tensed with her release, slowly washing over her in waves that made her tremble uncontrollably as he continued to pump himself into her. “Zi… _va!”_ He grunted, and she knew he was right there with her, biting her neck and spilling inside her, his movements slowing steadily until he finally stilled, semi-erect and still inside her, panting heavily against her neck. Finally she felt herself beginning to relax as her pleasure was fully realized, her body feeling heavy and at the same time weightless as she lay against him, reveling in pleasured bliss.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” he breathed, and she laughed lightly, feeling him slide out of her as she did so. He leaned over to give her a kiss as he climbed out of the bed, finding one of her t-shirts that had not yet been washed to clean themselves off with. That completed, Ziva got back up and retrieved her discarded underwear, sliding them back on before climbing back into bed. Her back was a little sore, but she didn’t want to worry Tony or make him think that he’d been the cause of her discomfort, so she kept it to herself and shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable.

It was not an easy endeavor at this stage of her pregnancy. She had no idea when, exactly, they should expect the baby, but with her stomach as large as it was, it couldn’t be too long now. Then again, she had seen some pregnant woman who looked enormous when they still had months to go. She supposed it would depend entirely on her body, and that when the baby was ready, the baby would come. She wondered briefly if she should have tried to determine her due date somehow, but as she had no idea when, exactly, they’d conceived, it seemed fairly pointless to try and figure it out. It would have made much more sense if they’d been keeping track of the dates from the beginning, but it was almost impossible to track them while they’d been on the move and after that, she stopped trying to keep up with it, deciding that – in the end – it didn’t really matter how long it had been since they’d been gone.

“Are you worried more about what to do when the time comes or the pain?” Tony broke the silence as he settled in beside her, clothed again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she smiled, noting with amusement that he took every opportunity he had to touch their child through her skin. She’d never really pictured Tony as a father before, but he was coming through in so many ways.

“I’m more worried about what to do. The pain is something I can manage.”

“Are you sure? I’ve heard it’s pretty intense,” Tony supplied, and she shrugged against him. The fact that Ziva wasn’t worried about the pain of childbirth shouldn’t really surprise him. Ziva had never been one to be bothered by pain, and she had, on more than one occasion, ignored pain to the detriment of her physical well-being. He had tried on many occasions not to let her flippant attitude toward pain bother him, but it did.

The fact that she had experienced so much of it in her life, however, bothered him immensely, and it was something he didn’t even try to hide. “I am sure I can handle it,” she replied, shrugging again. “Countless women have gone through it. Willingly. I am sure it can be endured.”

“You don’t always have to be so tough,” Tony whispered against her neck, his voice a low hum in her ear.

Ziva turned to face him suddenly, catching his gaze in the darkness. She’d gotten good at seeing in the dark, seeing as they had no lights. “Yes I do,” was all she said, a quiet resolve in her voice. Tony shivered at her words, but he chose not to dwell on what she’d meant by that.

“But you don’t,” he replied. “Let me be tough for you sometimes.”

She didn’t respond right away, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “You don’t understand, Tony, and it’s okay. I don’t expect you to.”

“I understand better than you think. I understand that you’ve always had to fight for everything you’ve had, every inch of ground you’ve gained. You don’t have to fight with me, Ziva. You don’t have to fight for me to take you seriously. I always have, from the day I met you.”

“It sounds so simple when you say it,” she said with a slight smile. “But you’re fighting against decades of conditioning. And I’m trying I just… I need you to be patient with me.”

Just then, the baby kicked especially hard, startling her enough to make her jerk in surprise. “Ouch, little one,” she chided, patting her belly gently. She’d grown used to the kicking at this point, but every once in a while, the baby would hit her just right to cause her to react. Seemingly sensing Ziva’s voice, the baby settled, but Ziva began to feel nauseated, and threw the covers off the bed, walking quickly to the door of their house and outside, emptying the contents of her stomach as far away from the house as she could manage without getting completely lost. It was dark out, which made it difficult to see, and she didn’t want to risk getting turned around and not being able to find her way back.

Maybe it would be time for them to try to make some candles or something, she thought to herself as she straightened back up, feeling instantly better after having vomited. She hadn’t really gotten sick a lot with this pregnancy, but every once in a while something would set her off.

Ziva wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then made her way back to the house. Tony was used to her sudden jumps out of bed at this point, and he hadn’t followed her outside, but merely watched her from the doorway. He’d tried to comfort her only once when she threw up, and she’d gotten so annoyed with him that he had promised not to do it again. She preferred that he would care for her afterwards, and so he stood with some water at the ready, handing it to her as she came back inside. “Thanks,” she said easily as she took the drink, rinsing her mouth to rid herself of the taste.

“Just think,” he said while she sipped her water. “Soon you won’t be pregnant anymore and you won’t have to deal with all these aches and pains. And puking,” he added as an afterthought, which made her smile.

“Being pregnant is not so bad, though,” she replied, shrugging. “I mean yes, my body has changed. My center of balance is different, and that affects my equilibrium sometimes. But…” she paused, trailing off, and Tony wondered what she’d been about to say.

“But?”

She set the empty water bottle down on the table, intending to fill it back up tomorrow morning. “But… I have rather enjoyed being pregnant. There is nothing like feeling the baby moving. If anyone had tried to describe it to me before being pregnant, I would not have understood what they meant. It is different, but a good kind of different. I will be happy to meet our child, but I will actually miss this part. Puking and all.”

Tony took her hand, giving it a slight squeeze before interlocking their fingers. “Well – and I’m just pointing this out here – I could be convinced to knock you up again.”

“Knock me up? I have heard of being knocked down but–”

He interrupted her with a chuckle. “It’s an expression, meaning you got someone pregnant. When you say ‘I knocked her up,’ you’re just saying ‘I got her pregnant.’”

“I will never understand how that makes _any_ sense, but I will take your word for it.” Ziva shook her head, trying to commit the term to her brain for future reference. It was only after a few minutes that she realized what he’d meant before.

“You are already thinking about having another one?”

He shrugged, looking slightly bashful. “Well, you just said that you liked being pregnant. And we both liked the activities that got you that way. So I’m just saying, this doesn’t have to be the only time.”

Ziva laughed then, reaching for his shoulder and clapping her hand down, and it took him completely off guard. “What’s so funny?” he asked, when she continued laughing, seemingly unable to stop.

“Nothing, Tony,” she said, though she was still laughing, her head shaking as she hunched over slightly, trying to catch her breath from the exertion of it. “I just… you’re adorable.”

“How?” No one had called him adorable in quite a long time. Decades, perhaps.

“Just the way you seem so hopeful about us having more sex, like now that we’re about to have a baby we’re never going to do it again or something.”

“Well, isn’t that how it kinda goes sometimes?” He took her hand from his shoulder and led her to the bed, lifting up the covers and ushering her in. “Some of my friends who have kids told me that they never get to do it anymore. They’re always too tired, or too busy. It’s a wonder people end up having more than one kid if that’s the case.”

“And there’s your answer. People manage to have more than one kid so obviously, all sex doesn’t stop just because you have a baby,” she pointed out, shuffling around on the bed until she got comfortable. She’d made an additional pillow just to keep under her stomach, and she had to admit that it had made a world of difference in her ability to sleep comfortably. “But we should probably be careful. I do like being pregnant and I am excited about having a child, but that doesn’t mean we should strive to have another one right away.”

Tony slid into the bed beside her, having waited until she got settled first. “Honey, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s kind of hard for me to resist you.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, not wanting to kiss him on the mouth until the taste of vomit had fully dissipated. She’d cleaned her teeth as best as she could, but the only mouthwash she had available was water, and it wasn’t especially effective. “I’ve noticed, and it’s okay, Tony. I feel the same way about you.”

He nuzzled her neck, his voice shifting to a low, seductive growl. “Well that does leave us in quite a pickle then, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm?”

“No birth control, and we can’t seem to resist each other, but we don’t want to get pregnant again right away. So what would you suggest?” He was kissing her neck, causing her to shiver in anticipation. They’d just made love, and she was already itching to have him again.

“Pulling out?”

“I can try,” he said, his breath hot against her neck as he kissed the spot just below her ear. “But you feel _so_ good,” he whined, and she sucked in a breath. His words, and the sultry way in which he delivered them, were doing things to her, and despite the late hour, she felt her body awakening, that delicious twinge of desire that only Tony could bring out of her.

“Then I guess we’ll have to get… _creative,”_ she breathed, leaving him absolutely zero doubt as to what it was she desired.

He groaned, feeling himself grow hard at the suggestive way she spoke to him, always rising to every challenge. “Care to get creative with me right now?” Never minding the fact that they’d just had sex a little while ago, Tony winked at her with a smirk. He’d heard from some of his friends that their wives were especially sexual during pregnancy, and he was glad to find that Ziva was no exception. He’d gladly proposition her every chance he got.

“Take your pants off and lie back,” she directed, and he happily obliged, waiting for her next command, “and I’ll show you.”

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 13 on Sunday.


	13. Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widow contacts Mossad, who is less than cooperative with them. Meanwhile, Tony and Ziva discuss what to name their child.

Director Elbaz was a busy woman, with little time for anything she or her assistant hadn’t placed on her schedule, so when three men came to Mossad headquarters demanding admittance, she had bristled at the very notion that either of them should have the time to entertain these men and whatever it was they deemed was so important.

That is, until one of them insinuated that she was not the rightful director of the agency. Had she not been returning from an appointment as they arrived, she might never have had her day interrupted at all, but she had stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly to face the men who had shown up uninvited.

One of the men, the shortest of the three, noted Orli’s sudden change of demeanor and caught her eye. “Ah, yes, that got your attention, didn’t it?” Orli’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t speak, opting instead to look at the three men who had essentially penciled themselves into her calendar.

“Ziva David,” the man said, as though the name would mean anything to her. A long time ago, it might have, but as far as Orli was aware, Ziva was happy as an American citizen, free from her father’s legacy and the things he’d expected of her. Ziva had told her that she held no ill will toward her taking the helm of Mossad, that she hadn’t wanted any part of it in the slightest. All this despite the past history Orli had shared with her father. While she was certain that Ziva didn’t forgive her entirely for everything that had happened, Ziva had made it quite clear that returning to Mossad for any reason was not an option for her, and she had shaken Orli’s hand and wished her the best.

Orli was sure that once upon a time, Ziva would have jumped at the opportunity to take the Director’s position, but her father’s betrayal – _betrayals –_ had been too much for her, and she had broken away, rescinding her Israeli citizenship and joining the American agency for good.

Agent David hadn’t even come back to Israel to handle her father’s estate, and likely wouldn’t for some time. She seemed content to have it handled _in_ _absentia_ , letting her father’s lawyers contact her for any pressing matters. Orli raised an eyebrow at the man, wondering just what Ziva David had to do with her position as Director of Mossad.

“What about her?”

“You know where she is?” Another man spoke up this time, this one more soft-spoken than the first, but every bit as unsettling. Did she know where Ziva was? What the hell did that mean?

“The last I have heard, she is in the United States, working in an American federal agency known as NCIS. You might try looking for her there. She no longer has any dealings with this agency,” Orli said, dismissing the gentlemen. She turned to head back to her office when the first man grabbed at her arm.

Seven guards who stood watch over the lobby lurched forward, but Orli drew her arm away quickly and spoke a warning, “You would remember who you are accosting, sir. These men will not hesitate should you touch me again.”

“Ziva David is no longer at NCIS.” This time, it was the third man who spoke, taller than the previous two, but no less cryptic.

Orli sighed, straightening up her jacket as she turned to walk away again. “I still do not see what that has to do with me,” she said, her irritation rising. One motion of her hand and the guards would take these three gentlemen away and lock them up in a bunker for the foreseeable future. She was half tempted, but they hadn’t officially done anything wrong, other than interrupt her day for idle chit-chat about a former officer who just so happened to be her late predecessor’s daughter.

“You may have heard of an operative by the name of Ilan Bodnar,” the first one spoke again, catching Orli’s attention. Of _course_ she knew Ilan; she had worked with him in the past, before he had gone rogue. “He is one of ours. _Was,”_ he corrected, clenching his fists at his side as he did so. “One of the best. But you see, Ziva David took it upon herself to avenge her pathetic father’s death. We had figured that she had gone soft while in the company of the Americans, but apparently not.”

“I still do not see what this has to do with me,” Orli repeated impatiently, but the second man picked up right where the first had left off.

“Eli David’s death is the reason you are in this post, hmm?” The man said, and Orli refused to respond. She would have taken the post when he retired, as well, which should have been a few months later than she actually had taken it. It was no grand secret that Eli David had been planning to retire prior to his death. “So it would be in your best interest to know where Ziva David is.”

“As well as her American partner, Agent DiNozzo,” the third man spoke up again, and that got Orli’s attention.

“You are saying that they are missing?” Orli said, and the three men didn’t respond, looking at her expectantly, like she was meant to guess. “Not missing. They have gone off-grid?”

Two of the men nodded, but the one in the middle stood still. “That is exactly what we are saying.”

Realization dawned on Orli, and she chuckled inwardly. Did they really believe that she could help them? “And you think I know where they have gone,” she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

“She was trained by Mossad, surely you have insight into her training,” the short one said.

“Then you do not know Mossad nearly as well as you think. Not only was I trained something like twenty years before Agent David, but all of our operatives are trained much differently when it comes to disappearing. They are trained to disappear, yes, but not to any one location. The globe is large, gentlemen, and there are several places where an operative may disappear. If you are looking for answers from this agency, then I am sorry to say, you are out of luck.”

“That is what you want us to believe,” the tallest one said, reaching for her arm again. Sensing this, Orli backed away in time, giving the man a stern look. One more attempt to grab her, and they would see a cell. Perhaps she was already being too lenient as it was.

She narrowed her eyes as she began to speak again. “I do not know what else to tell you, as I have not told you anything that is untrue. If Ziva David has disappeared, then good luck finding her, gentlemen, because you will not have my assistance. I will not waste this agency’s resources looking for someone who wishes to be a ghost. Good day, gentlemen.”

The short one got angry, raising his voice as he asked, “Do you know who you are talking to?”

“I had not, not at first, but your mention of Ilan Bodnar has confirmed it. I wouldn’t have thought Widow would show their faces here. You are on several government watch lists, so I hope you know what you are doing. Even if I had any information to give you, I refuse to negotiate with terrorists, so unless you see yourselves out, your little organization will be down three of its members. I’ll be sure to send Mr. Aman your heads along with my regards.”

All three of the men stepped toward her, and it was at that time when the guards in the lobby advanced toward them, guns raised. There were at least two guards to each man, and although every man and woman in the place was highly trained in close combat, Orli knew that these terrorists were more ruthless than her people.

Her people, however, were armed, and before any of these men were even able to walk into the building, they would have been disarmed. Still, she did not wish to start an incident under her roof. “Gentlemen, again. I do not have anything I can give you. Ziva David left Mossad several years ago. Only a few remain who had ever worked with her, and no one remains from her physical training class. You are not going to get the information you seek from this agency.” She spoke strongly, hoping that the emphasis she gave would be enough to dissuade them, but the three men, who had backed off upon having guns trained on them, gave each other knowing looks.

“You will tell us the name of these people,” the short one, apparently the leader of the three, said.

“I will do no such thing, sir. All of that information is classified, and you are delusional if you think that a terrorist group belongs on the list of people who can be read in.” Orli was getting aggravated, but she refused to show it. While she trusted that Ziva could take care of herself, she knew that if these men found her, she’d be in great danger. She had to make sure that she reached out to the few people remaining who’d had any contact with her and warn them to remain close-lipped.

Discreetly, of course. If these men were so bold as to step into her building, she felt assured that they would have no qualms watching her every movement and checking her telephone records. Their line was secure, but terrorists had their ways of finding out information. “If you please, gentlemen, you _will_ leave my building or you will be escorted out in body bags.”

“If you had wanted to do that, _Director_ , you would have done it already. We _will_ get the information we seek, and you will be sorry that you were not so forthcoming with information,” one of the men spoke, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Do not threaten me,” she seethed, speaking through gritted teeth. “Now _leave.”_

Reluctantly, the men turned to leave, each guard in the lobby watching with interest as they did so. It wasn’t until the door had shut behind the last man that Orli finally turned from the entrance, heading to the elevator up to her office.

She needed to reach out to some contacts, as quietly as possible. “Sabrina, one of the burn phones,” she said absently as she walked into her office. Her assistant sprang into action and reached for one of the phones at her disposal, handing it to Orli and watching silently as she went through the process to activate it. She would make only two calls on this phone, and then Sabrina would dismantle the phone, discarding the pieces of it in various locations.

When she’d finished with those calls, she reached for her desk phone, calling someone she _could_ call in an official capacity without arousing suspicion. “Director Vance, good morning. It’s Director Elbaz. We may have a situation.”

* * *

“Do you remember when I said you looked good in that ‘bun in the oven’ shirt?”

Ziva was leaning against him, practicing some of the breathing techniques she’d seen on television shows, unsure if any of that was real or just a Hollywood trope. It couldn’t hurt, she’d decided, and Tony had agreed, so they sat together, her between his legs, trying to prepare as best as they could for the impending birth of their child.

She turned her head looking back and up at him, nodding as she replied, “Yes.”

“I had no idea how much more beautiful you would look when you were actually pregnant,” he said quietly, his hand rubbing protectively over her belly, feeling her shudder at his admission.

“Tony,” she gasped, surprised. She tilted her head up, reaching her arm around the back of his neck to kiss him hungrily, needing to show him just how much she adored him, and needing to express with her actions what her words could not. They pulled apart, their lips meeting again for another quick, light kiss, before she settled against him, nuzzling into his neck.

“You were smiling in that pic and I couldn’t get over the way you cradled that fake belly. I thought maybe someday…” he trailed off. He had always hoped, but had never dared to bring it up before. “I never expected it to be like this, but I’m glad that it happened,” he finished, tightening his arms around her and kissing her forehead gently. It was still hard for him to admit that he’d felt the way he had for such a long time, but he was getting better at it. Seeing Ziva undercover with her fake pregnancy had made him want things he’d never wanted before.

“Yesterday you said I was huge,” she teased, patting him lightly on the leg. She felt rather than heard him chuckle against her, and she pulled away slightly, looking at him expectantly.

He shrugged, answering her honestly, “You _are_ huge, Ziva, but you’re also radiant. If I’d have known you would look like this, well… I might have knocked you up sooner,” he said with a grin, and although he said it jokingly, as though he were teasing, Ziva could tell that he meant what he said. This time, she didn’t question the expression.

“I love you, you idiot,” she said through a light laugh, turning to kiss him on the neck, their childbirth practice forgotten as they became wrapped up in one another again. He tangled his hands through her hair, which had grown long and even more unruly over the past months, kissing her hungrily and pulling her tightly against him. She melted into his embrace, holding him tightly against her as she kissed him back, taking all he could give her.

He pulled away slightly, kissing her softly again, a sweet, light peck against her rosy, enticing lips, brighter now with pregnancy, then dove back in, practically devouring her as she clung to him, pulling him close and moaning into his embrace.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Ziva leaned her forehead against his, gazing into his eyes, finding there what she had been looking for, despite never having realized she’d been looking for it. “I love you too,” Tony whispered against her lips, and she grazed her lips against his in response, reveling in the way it felt, this intimacy between them.

“We will have to name our child,” Ziva said, pulling back slightly, rubbing her stomach lovingly. They hadn’t really talked about it yet, but she was certainly growing closer to giving birth every day, and they would need to decide eventually.

Tony leaned back against the wall as Ziva scooted away from him a bit, turning to face him, settling between his legs. “Do you wish that we knew the sex?” He asked, remembering a mission from a lifetime ago, one where they had lied to a couple of assassins about wanting to be surprised.

“Somewhat,” she began, cocking her head to the side, seemingly lost in thought. “But it is not possible to know, so I have not really thought about it,” she added. “I am fairly certain it will be a girl though.”

“If you say so,” he responded, and they sat in silence for a moment, lost in thought.

He’d never really thought about what he would name his child if he had one. Sure, his father probably expected him to name his firstborn son after him, making him the third in the line of Anthony DiNozzos, but Tony had never particularly cared for creating a dynasty, despite his jokes to the contrary. That kind of thing carried the weight of some sort of responsibility to a family and a name, and he just didn’t want to burden his son with that, if he could possibly help it.

And what if they had a girl? He’d never thought about girl names before. “What are you thinking?” Ziva asked, interrupting his thoughts, and he smiled slightly as he leaned forward to respond.

“In general, or in terms of names?”

She shrugged, looking at him earnestly. “Both, I guess,” she responded, and she took his hand, placing it at her stomach as the baby began to move around, as if he or she knew that they were talking about him or her.

“It amazes me, every time,” he said as he felt the tiny flutter against his palm, and Ziva nodded in agreement. Not just that they’d created a living being that was now cartwheeling as she carried it safely in her womb, but that they’d come this far together in the first place, that they’d arrived _here,_ at this precise moment in time. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Did you want to… you know, name the baby after anyone? Tali, perhaps?” The way Tony said her sister’s name was so reverent, so careful, and so respectful of their relationship and how much Ziva had loved her sister. He could not say it with the proper accent, but he always tried to say it as gently and as beautifully as possible, as if just speaking the name was like a prayer on his lips, a prayer said for her benefit. Tony knew how important Tali had been to her, and his reverence for her memory touched her still, even after all this time.

“No, Tony.” She replied, taking a moment to compose her thoughts, a bead of moisture beginning to pool in her eyes at the thought of her dear sister. “Tali is Tali, and there can never be another for me. I do not want to give my – _our –_ daughter a name that she will feel she might have to live up to. As much as I love my sister, I want her name to be _hers._ You know?”

Before she could stop it, the tear rolled down her cheek, and Tony reached up to wipe it away, lightly caressing her cheek. He noted how she leaned into his touch, accepting his comfort now rather than shying away from it. “I do know,” he responded, adding, “Although it isn’t quite the same, I kind of feel that way about naming my son after me. And my father. It’s a lot to live up to.”

“I agree, the last thing this world needs is another Anthony DiNozzo,” she teased with a smile, leaning in to kiss him.

“Hey! I–” he argued before her lips met his, capturing his protests and silencing them, at least momentarily, and his words were forgotten entirely as he lost himself in the sensation of kissing her, the feel of her lips moving against his and her body pressed close to him. She was intoxicating, really, and the way she tasted was like his own personal slice of heaven on earth.

“But I think you should consider naming her after your sister, Ziva. If it’s a girl, anyway. You once told me all sorts of lovely things about her, about how wonderful she was, and those all sound like the kind of qualities I’d want in a daughter,” he said softly, urging her to at least think about it. He was surprised that she _didn’t_ want to name her child after her sister. “She can be named Tali without any expectations attached to that, you know.”

“I will think about it,” she said softly, leaning in to kiss him again. Perhaps naming a daughter after Tali _would_ be a way to honor her sister, to give her new life in the way she could not have done when Tali had been sixteen. “Whatever we name her,” she breathed as she pulled away, “or him,” she added, “the baby will be DiNozzo.”

He pulled away, searching her eyes for any sign that she was joking with him and finding none. They hadn’t talked about it, and they weren’t married. He’d just assumed that she would keep her last name, and that the baby would, too. He was utterly speechless, and he stared at her, his mouth hanging open, as she spoke again, “And I think that perhaps, I should be, too.”

“You want to…” he trailed off, swallowing. Had he heard her right? She’d said…

“Marry you, yes, that’s what I said, Tony,” she replied with a smile, amused at his surprise. _After all this time,_ she thought with a smile, _I thought he knew._ “I _may_ have already gotten used to the sound of Ziva DiNozzo,” she admitted, and he crashed into her, causing her to shriek in surprise as he kissed her passionately, pulling her tightly against him and embracing her hungrily.

Ziva relaxed in his arms, reveling in the way he felt against her, the way his hand always found itself tangled in her hair at the back of her neck as he caressed her lips with his own. She would never tire of this, how she felt when he wrapped himself around her and savored her mouth, how he groaned against her as she kissed him back, how his kisses dizzied her and left her weak at the knees. “Tony,” she gasped between kisses, feeling the heat of his embrace enveloping her, desire for him intensifying as she held him against her, teasing, tasting, and taking.

“You really want,” he spoke between kisses, pulling her lips against his again with a frenzied urgency, “to be my wife? To be Mrs. DiNozzo?” He held her close, their foreheads touching as he spoke just above a whisper.

A chill went down her spine at his words, the way his voice thickened as he struggled to speak, recognizing that he was becoming choked up. “Yes,” she whispered against him, gazing into his eyes, watching as tears began to pool there. _“Yes,”_ she said more emphatically, punctuating it with a kiss, before practically shouting. _“Yes!”_

“God,” he said, his voice sounding gravelly as he struggled to speak. “I had hoped… I mean, I had been thinking of us, we’re… we’re a _family,_ but I… I didn’t…” he trailed off, unable to speak, unable to believe. He blinked once, then again, as though everything were a dream and it would all be gone in an instant. She smiled at him, blinking back tears of her own.

“I know we cannot be legally married right now, Tony, but as God is my witness, I am – for all intents and purposes – your wife, for all of eternity.” She touched his cheek, caressing him gently and pulling him toward her as she spoke, gazing deep into his eyes as she made her vow.

“Ziva,” he gasped, struggling to hold back from crying. Never in his life had he ever loved someone _this much,_ so much that it took his breath away. Finding his voice again, he spoke, recognizing the importance of her vow, _their_ vow, and making his own, “God, Ziva, I will love you until the end of time, and I hope you will accept me as your husband, now and forever.”

She could no longer hold back the tears in her eyes as her smile grew, causing her to lurch forward and into his arms, kissing him with abandon. So what if they didn’t have a piece of paper saying they were married? They had vowed their lives to each other, and that was all that mattered. When they pulled apart, a breathless tangle of limbs still sat on the floor, Tony said in an official tone, “You may now kiss the bride,” causing Ziva to throw her head back and laugh before leaning her head on his chest and snuggling against him, content to stay in his arms for the rest of eternity.

* * *

Their trek through the forest was only slightly slower than usual as they walked with their weapons in hand, Tony behind Ziva as they sought out any game from which they could obtain both meat and hides. Ziva still liked to take the lead, and Tony was glad to let her, no-so-secretly glad that he would be right behind her if she lost her balance.

Almost as if she read his mind, she stopped suddenly, and he crashed into her, not fully paying attention to where he was going. Ziva dropped her weapon and reached out for a tree to steady herself, and Tony wrapped his arm around her, doing his best to keep them both from toppling over.

“See something?” he asked, peering forward into the forest for any signs of movement. Though, judging by the noise they’d made as they’d crashed into one another, it was likely that whatever it was had fled.

“No, sorry,” was her response, and she reached into her pouch – a small purse-like bag she carried whenever they walked – and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a swig. Now that she was very, _very_ pregnant, she rarely went anywhere without some water, just in case she felt lightheaded or dehydrated.

Tony left his arm around her waist, leaning forward to catch her eye. “Everything all right?”

“Fine, Tony. I was just thirsty. I should have warned you before I just stopped like that.”

He didn’t respond, and she screwed the lid back onto her water bottle and slid it back in the bag, freeing her hands again. It wasn’t that warm out, but it was humid, and the exertion of their walk had her rather sweaty. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Tony shifted behind her, and a new heat began to spread through her limbs. This pregnancy was doing a number on her. If it hadn’t been ridiculous crying at the drop of a hat, it had been her raging hormones.

She needed him. _Now._

Reaching for the tree she’d steadied herself on before, she leaned back, just enough to grind her backside into Tony’s crotch, signaling her intent. He stilled momentarily, then jerked his hips forward just slightly, feeling himself harden almost instantly. “Out here?” he asked, his voice already low and gravely with want, and Ziva merely nodded, circling her hips as she held onto the tree for leverage.

 _“Fuck,”_ was his only response, the word low and drawn out, and she laughed, a low, throaty laugh that caused her to shake against his already straining member.

“Need you,” she breathed, and she took her pouch off, then reached under her tunic to pull it off, tossing it atop the pouch. She then slid her underwear off, stepping carefully out of them and tossing them on top of the tunic to keep them from getting dirty.

That completed, she took both hands and steadied herself on the tree again, bending over and arching her back toward him, inviting him to take her.

Tony wasted no time opening his pants, sliding them down only halfway before taking himself in hand and stroking his cock up and down the length of her wet folds. She hissed at the contact, squirming toward him, her back arched almost unnaturally toward him, and he rubbed himself there until he could hardly stand it anymore. She was so close and so hot and dripping for him, and she was practically trembling with need, based on the way she was moaning each time he teased at her clit with the tip of his cock.

“Do you want me to…” he began, sliding his fingers forward and delighting in the hiss of pleasure he elicited as he reached to touch her, slipping one inside and watching as she eagerly rocked herself onto his hand. He was painfully hard now but he _loved_ to tease her, so he took his time, twisting his fingers around inside of her and rubbing his cock through the length of her folds as a preview of what was to come.

“Please,” she begged, and the word sent a shock right to his core.

“Well, when you ask nicely…” he said thickly, his voice dripping with want. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and took himself in hand, then he lined himself up and slid forward, groaning in tune with the sound of her long, low moan as he gradually thrust into her, bracing his hands on her hips and easing himself into her slowly.

Lately she was insatiable, and he loved every second of it. Ziva shifted slightly, taking him deeper than before, and he couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He began to rut against her erratically, pounding against her so rapidly that she couldn’t help but cry out with each thrust. “Hold on,” he instructed, and he began to move even faster, his body slamming against hers as she arched against him.

“Touch me,” she whined, unable to free either of her hands to stimulate herself. Tony gladly obliged, reaching around to grab her breast and giving it a tight squeeze, his nails digging into her flesh as he fucked her from behind. “Yes!” she screamed, loving this animalistic side of him. Maybe it was the jungle, or the position, or the combination of both, but Tony had read her desires without so much as a word and was now giving her exactly what she needed.

Ziva rolled her hips toward him, causing him to slow slightly, and soon he was entering her with slower, hard strokes, each drag of his cock against that spot inside her causing her to see stars. She met him with every thrust, her arms flexing with the exertion as she bucked her hips wildly toward him, begging him deeper with every backward thrust of her body.

Tony watched as she wantonly threw her head back, her hair wild as the wind caught it just right and a shock went through him at just how primal this encounter was. Ziva was tight and dripping around his cock, begging for him to fuck her from behind, and he was groping and grasping at her, giving her rough, hard sex in the jungle heat.

She couldn’t let go of the tree for fear of losing her balance but she needed _more._ “Rub me,” she whined, and with a grunt he moved his hand from her reddened, swollen breast and down the curve of her stomach and around to her aching sex, reaching between her legs to rub her clit, quick circular strokes that led her screaming with pleasure. “Good fucking g– _fuck_ yes!”

“Like that? Like the way I fuck you?”

“Oh, _Tony… fuck!”_ she screamed, clenching herself around him, feeling the way he shuddered. Fuck, she was so close. “Faster,” she begged, an almost pitiful, _“please,”_ falling from her lips as she arched toward him, desperate for release.

His entire body was wound up tight, feeling as though he might burst from the sheer pleasure of it all, and something snapped within him when she begged him to move faster. He fucked her with abandon, pistoning his hips against her, his cock hitting her deep with every rapid thrust. Ziva was beyond words at this point, her cries now left to mere moans and grunts of pleasure as he fucked her hard, every inch of her feeling as though she was ready to explode with the pressure. He began rubbing her clit again, and a few short strokes was all it took to send her tumbling over the edge, her legs trembling beneath her and her knees buckling as she tumbled forward, bracing her body more fully on the tree as her pleasure took her, sending him spiraling right behind her, both literally and in pleasure. She clenched around him, her entire body trembling as he came, his pleasure causing him to cry out. He leaned forward to bite her lightly on the shoulder as he thrust one final time, slowly lowering the both of them to their knees as they came down from their high.

He was still semi-hard when he leaned over and kissed her, her mouth opening as she moaned wantonly into the embrace, and he felt himself twitching to life again despite the exertion of the last time. Ziva bit his lip and then tightened herself around him, causing him to hiss with what could only be described as a pleasurable sort of pain – he was so sensitive after just having come that he couldn’t quite handle the sensation yet.

She chuckled, knowing exactly what she’d done. “Tease,” he breathed against her ear, licking the lobe and watching with delight as she squirmed against him, and finally, he slid from her, his dick still semi-hard despite itself.

“You love it,” she breathed, reaching for his arm and wrapping it around her waist, allowing him to cuddle her for just a bit, despite the fact that Tony was half-sat, half-kneeling on his legs, and she was leaning against him on the forest floor. At some point, his pants had fallen the rest of the way down his legs and now sat crumpled beneath him on the ground, a suitable enough barrier between his bare skin and the foliage-covered dirt.

“I’m definitely not complaining.” Sex against a tree with Ziva shamelessly writhing around his cock was not something he’d ever in his wildest fantasies imagined, but Ziva had shown him on more than one occasion that his fantasies had not held a candle to the real thing.

“Well…” he started, sucking in a deep breath and catching it as his heart rate recovered, “I don’t think we’re going to see any animals now.”

“Hmm,” she agreed, then smirked wickedly. “But you just fucked me like one,” she said, her tone of voice low and seductive, sending heat all the way down to his groin.

“Dear _god,”_ he groaned, feeling himself harden all over again.

Ziva smirked, feeling him poking at her backside. “Round two?” she cooed with a smile, lifting up slightly and sitting down on his lap, his cock settling between her legs, where she could stroke it gently, rubbing it between her own arousal.

He leaned back, straightening his legs and setting his hands on the ground behind him to steady himself. “You’re gonna kill me,” he gasped as she lifted up again, slowly sinking down on top of him, eliciting a low growl from somewhere deep in his gut.

“Can I help how badly you want me?” she breathed, riding him slowly, as both of their bodies were already sore and stretched from the first round. She rose up and then sank down, rubbing her ass against him as she took him all the way in, feeling him deep inside of her. “I can’t help how badly I want _you,”_ she breathed, leaning forward and bracing herself on the tree again, this time as she rode him.

“I will _never_ be tired of this,” he groaned, lifting his hips to meet hers and keeping the slow pace. He was still sensitive from before, but Ziva was hitting him _just_ the right way to bring him back to the brink.

 _“Good,”_ she breathed, her voice hitching as she sped up slightly, feeling that familiar tightness begin to build again. Without asking this time, Tony reached around, with both hands this time, and grabbed her breasts, kneading them between his fingers, paying particular attention to the way her nipples hardened at his touch. Each twist of his fingers shot a jolt of electricity right to her core, and she felt the intense desire coiling within her. Tony was an expert lover, and he knew exactly how and when to touch her to bring her to the highest peaks of pleasure she had ever known.

“Like that?” he breathed, his voice thicker than the humid jungle air. The wind was beginning to pick up slightly, but he hardly cared, as Ziva’s hair was flying wildly around her head as she rode him, her pace quickening as he twitched inside her.

 _“Yes,_ Tony, you feel so _good,”_ she panted, bracing her hands on his thighs for leverage as she rode him faster now, chasing that release she knew would soon come.

“Tell me,” he begged, lifting his hips as much as he could, meeting her thrusts with a renewed urgency as she picked up the pace, her thighs slamming against him as she sank down on him, taking him deep.

“I _love_ the way your cock feels inside me,” she breathed, her voice hitching as she caught her breath. “So hard and big,” she continued, groaning as she spoke the next words. “Fits _perfectly_ in me, Tony.”

“Mmm… I fuck you so good, don’t I?” he growled, and she cried out as he thrust upward, taking her by surprise and hitting her deep. Tony braced himself and began to thrust up and into her, giving her a fast, bumpy ride as he pounded his hips up against her.

 _“Yes, Tony,”_ she cried, leaning her head back and allowing the sensations to wash over her, the wind of the jungle whipping around her as the skies opened up and it started to pour, dousing them suddenly as they chased their pleasure together. “Don’t stop,” she begged, and Tony moved even faster, as if to suggest he wouldn’t have dreamed of it.

The rain was sudden and heavy, and they were both soaked almost immediately, but they were both too far gone to even begin to care about being caught in it. Ziva’s wet hair clung to her skin as she sat atop him, water droplets running down her bare skin and merging with the beads of water pooling on his own body.

His cock twitched painfully as he realized just how _hot_ this was. _“Fuck_ this is hot,” he growled, needing to verbalize, needing her to hear just how much he desired her in this moment.

He was close, and he could sense that she was, too, as she tightened herself around him, nearly causing him to lose control right then and there. She clenched again, urging him on, and when she turned to meet his eye, a wicked glint caught his attention and he knew _exactly_ what she was doing. “Touch yourself for me,” he begged, wanting to see her bring herself to the peak of pleasure.

Ziva reached up and touched her neck first, her fingers lightly grazing the skin there as she slid them down, caressing her breasts as she brought her nipples to hard peaks again, staying there a few moments, causing her to gasp with pleasure at her own ministrations. Tony twitched as he thrust into her, willing himself to commit this very image to memory – Ziva, soaking wet and riding his cock, playing with her tits and gasping with pleasure. “Yeah, baby,” he breathed, his hands lovingly caressing at her hips as she continued to meet his upward thrusts.

She began to trail one of her hands downward, tracing the skin of her stomach, leaving the other to play with her breast while her free hand inched its way down to her core, reaching between her legs and stroking herself eagerly. Tony felt her legs muscles twitching and he knew that she was close. “Come for me,” he begged, his voice tight and strained as he struggled to hold onto himself, for her sake.

It wasn’t but a few strokes of her hand before she was undone, her entire body quivering as the pleasure wracked her body, her skin erupting with goosebumps as she suddenly threw her hair back, whipping the wet mass of curls up into the air and flicking the droplets down and onto Tony’s face. With that he was done, shooting his release as he felt himself empty almost painfully inside of her, his toes curling tightly as his orgasm seemed to pull from every last nerve ending of his body, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. _“Fuck,”_ he swore, and this time, he was well and truly spent, his sensitive member already soft and slipping out of her as she shifted slightly.

The rain continued to bear down on them as they caught their breath, and soon they were both shivering, the water cold despite the warmth of the air and the heat of their encounter.

Ziva was the first to stand, lifting herself up by the very tree she’d been leaning against, standing on slightly unsteady legs as she reached for her clothing. Tony took another few seconds to recover before standing up, reaching for his pants and his weapon, opting to not bother with the wet garments, instead slinging them over his shoulder. Ziva had a similar idea, draping her own soaked clothing over her arm as she picked up her weapon, stopping again to steady herself and get her bearings.

“You all right?” he asked, sounding both concerned and amused, knowing that Ziva’s recovery time post-orgasm wasn’t always immediate, and taking great pride in the fact that it sometimes took her a while to fully get situated.

She leaned forward, kissing him hungrily, tasting the rain on his lips. “Never better,” she breathed against his cheek, kissing him there before pulling away. She craved intimacy in this moment but knew that they should return home to dry off first, but she reached her hand out, inviting him to take it. He did so, interlocking his fingers with hers, and they walked slowly back to their house naked as the rain kept pouring its relentless stream down upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beyond proud of the smutty scene in this chapter, as I think it may be one of the most risque things I've ever written. That said, I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. And did you really expect me not to write a hot jungle scene? Please. 
> 
> Look for Chapter 14 on Thursday.


	14. Birth of a Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva goes into labor and Tony supports her. Meanwhile, Mossad and NCIS begin to work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: The birth does get to be graphic at one point. Please read with caution. I wanted this to be as authentic as possible.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time Ziva finally woke up, surprised to see that Tony had already awakened and was not inside. She lay still for a while, not wanting to leave the comfort of their bed, the discomforts of late pregnancy having taken their toll on her body.

Her back was bothering her, she noted, but it was probably nothing. Aches and pains were something she was becoming all-too accustomed to as this pregnancy continued. She and Tony were assuming at this point that the baby would arrive any day now, and she grew more nervous as that time approached. She stretched her legs a second before sliding one off the edge of the bed, and then the other before laboring to sit up.

The dull ache in her back intensified, for just a moment. She reached around to the small of her back, rubbing a few times to work out the kinks. “I really must have slept sideways,” she muttered under her breath as the pain subsided, returning to the dull ache that she’d felt since she woke.

She resigned herself to the thought that she may just have to deal with an aching back for the day.

Slowly, Ziva walked – _more like waddled,_ she thought to herself – as she made her way to the door of their house, stepping outside to see Tony standing at the stream with one of their makeshift fishing poles. She smiled as she took him in, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each pull of the rod.

Another sharp pain hit her back, and she sucked in a sharp breath, leaning against the support of the doorway. Tony hadn’t heard her over the sound of the running water, and it was just as well – she was _fine_ , and he need not worry.

Almost as quickly as it came, the pain went away again, and she resumed her morning walk to greet her husband. She smiled inwardly at the thought. If marriage was a relationship built on mutual love and trust, then Tony had been her husband for years now.

Ziva reached Tony in just a few moments, snuggling up behind him and reaching her arms around his waist, as much as she could with her pregnant belly in the way. Tony jumped slightly, not having heard her, but relaxed into the embrace when she kissed him lightly on the shoulder.

“Sneaking up on me,” he admonished, turning to kiss her back.

“I do not know why you are not used to it at this point,” was her retort, and he shrugged in response. She laughed, triggering another sharp pain in her lower back. This time, Tony was close enough to hear her hiss, and he turned away from the stream, setting his fishing pole down, his face lined with concern.

“Ziva?” he asked, eyeing her with worry. He noted a pained grimace on her face, her hand clinging to his arm for support as she leaned forward slightly, steeling herself through the pain.

After a moment, she straightened up again, letting out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, saying, “I am fine, Tony.”

“You didn’t look fine,” was his response, and he couldn’t help the anxiety that began to rise, the fear that something was wrong.

“It is fine. I have just been having these pains this morning, they keep coming and going, and–” she stopped short, realization dawning on her face. “I believe I may have started labor.”

Tony’s face went white for about a millisecond, then he drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. It would do neither of them any good to panic now. “Okay,” he began, taking another deep breath and looking at her intently. “What can I do? What do you need?”

“I do not need anything right now, Tony, relax. It may be a while before anything happens.”

“I’ve heard that some women labor like their mothers. Do you know how long–”

“No,” she interrupted wistfully. “Children were not really an option to me, not while my mother was alive, so we never discussed it.”

She said it so simply, as though it were the most natural thing, to have given up so fully on the sort of life that would lead her to motherhood that Tony sobered up immediately. Despite having known Ziva as long as he had, it was still difficult for him to hear these reminders that her life had not been her own for so long. He’d never known this kind of empathy for another, but for Ziva, his heart ached for all that she had given up on before she’d even known him. “Oh,” was all he said in response.  

“We may as well settle in, get comfortable. Or as comfortable as we can.” Despite her insistence that she was fine, she had to admit that the pains were _intense._ She had no idea if they would get worse, or how long this entire process would last. If she were able to go to a hospital, they would likely be able to tell her at least something.

As it was, she’d had no prenatal care, and her knowledge of giving birth was not good. She assumed that her body would know what to do, as women centuries ago did not have the type of medical care that was common nowadays, but as for knowing things like whether her cervix was ready – she was pretty sure there was something about the cervix with childbirth – she would not have any sort of clue on. None of her friends had had any children, either. As much as she’d hoped for motherhood in recent years, she hadn’t exactly been well-versed in its mechanics.

“If you’re in labor, shouldn’t your… I mean, don’t you think your water should have broken?” Tony asked, and Ziva had to admit, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“I do not know, Tony. Maybe it is not like they show on TV, where it all comes rushing out.”

“You’re probably right,” he agreed, wishing now that he’d taken the time to learn more about labor and delivery at some point in his life. Of all the knowledge he had ever thought he’d need, childbirth was not on the list. He’d always assumed that if he got to the point where he was ready to be a father, he’d have doctors and books and the internet to rely on.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would become a father in the middle of the jungle without so much as another human being to rely on for help with the delivery. He was it, the sole person Ziva would have to rely on, and it was terrifying, but he had to be there for her. She would need him.

“Maybe you could have a bath. I tested the water this morning, it feels amazing. Perhaps that would help with the pain, at least somewhat,” he suggested. He wasn’t sure if getting in the water would be a smart idea right now, but he didn’t really know _anything._ But it was only water, it couldn’t hurt, could it? And the water was the perfect temperature, the kind of temperature that would make him want to relax there all day, if Ziva wasn’t hours away from giving birth.

“Maybe,” she agreed, and she leaned on him as she took her underwear off, trying not to lose her balance as another sharp pain hit her. Ziva had known pain in her life, in many different forms, but the pain of childbirth was something she’d not expected, nor was it something she had ever experienced. It was _intense,_ starting from her lower back and moving to the whole of her stomach, and then causing her limbs to tingle with the intensity of it. She was a strong woman, but she could absolutely understand why so many women chose to take pain medication while giving birth.

She would never in her life call another woman weak for needing an epidural, that was for sure. It wasn’t an option for her in this moment, but she might have been tempted, had she had that option. There was no use dwelling on that now, though, and she waited for another pain to subside before she slid into the water. “Join me,” she ordered, and Tony wasted no time getting his own clothing off and getting in beside her, wanting to support her however he could.

“Uh, this probably isn’t the time for that,” he joked, and Ziva punched him in the chest, glaring.

“You are in here so that I do not lose my balance or otherwise end up in danger. This pain is very intense, Tony, I cannot begin to describe it and so I will not even try. But if I get to the point where I cannot stand by myself, I am going to need you to keep me afloat. I am trusting you,” she said as another wave of pain hit her. Tony held her close, rubbing her arms and doing his best to soothe her through the pain, but she merely gritted her teeth and bore it as best as she could.

There was no telling how long they stayed in the water, the pains coming and going rather irregularly, Tony holding her through them and Ziva doing her best to remember to breathe, despite the way she wanted to tense up through them. She did not know how much longer this could last, or how many more of these cycles she would be able to sit through. She’d begun to cry, and if anyone else had been with her she would have been ashamed, but with Tony she just let the tears fall, speaking through raspy breaths. “It hurts,” she gasped, tears falling down her cheeks.

Tony didn’t know what to do other than keep saying she was doing fine and wiping the tears from her cheeks. “How will you know if you’re ready?” He asked at one point, and Ziva shook her head to signify that she didn’t know. She had no idea how she would know if it was time to push. That’s what doctors were there for. She could only hope that her body would know.

Despite the water feeling great, Ziva had noted that it hadn’t done much to really improve on the pain situation. It was not cold enough to be numbing, nor was it hot enough to be dulling. “Help me out,” she instructed, and Tony waited through another contraction, noting that they were getting longer, with shorter breaks, before he got out, and then helped Ziva slide out. She was capable of walking, but he didn’t want to let her go, just in case her knees decided that they couldn’t support her in the face of the continuous pain.

He wished more than anything that he could take at least some of it away from her. Watching her face contorting with each painful contraction absolutely killed him. He knew that in the end, her effort would be worth it and they would have a child – _a child –_ but he still couldn’t stand to see her go through all of this. His support was great, surely, but it was just that. He wasn’t doing anything but standing by and following whatever orders she could give him.

“Get the tarp from the shelf, the brown one,” she instructed, and he wasted no time in obeying. When he came back with it in his hands, she smiled gratefully at him before grimacing in pain again. “Spread it down on the ground,” she croaked out, doubling over and hissing for breath. It couldn’t possibly be long now. There was no possible way that this could get any worse, and it felt to her like the contractions were coming almost back to back as it was.

Once Tony had set the tarp on the ground, she sat on it, leaning so that her back was at a forty-five-degree angle from the ground. “Get me one of those pillows,” she ordered, and Tony rushed into the house, bringing two of them out and helping her place them behind her head. She lay back, wincing as she did so, and turned to her side, hoping that the change in position would help her relax some.

Tony crouched down, taking her hand, and she held onto it tightly. “Are you okay?” he asked. He felt like it was a stupid question, but he didn’t know what else to ask, or what else he could do for her. She nodded slightly, her eyes closing against the pain, and he reached to push her hair, now wet with sweat and clinging to her face, off of her cheek.

“How much longer?” she asked, her tears coming anew, and Tony didn’t have the answer, he just held her hand and stayed by her side.

* * *

McGee sat with Pruitt in the government-issued Impala, waiting for the arrival of the Israelis they’d been charged with picking up from the airport. Pruitt, for his part, sat silently, unsure what to make of the fact that Mossad had contacted them, but McGee hadn’t had the patience to explain that one of his predecessors had formerly belonged to the foreign agency and that sometimes, they worked together.

Pruitt was a bit too buttoned-up for his liking, and McGee wondered whether the man was just naturally a private person who didn’t share a lot or if he was hiding something. He’d personally had enough of people keeping secrets, but everyone was entitled to have at least a few, and maybe he’d open up eventually.

Mossad had contacted them yesterday, saying that they were on the way to the States and that they’d need someone from Gibbs’ team to come pick them up. McGee had volunteered, seeing as he was the only one outside of Gibbs who had even met the Israelis, but Gibbs had insisted that Pruitt go with him.

 _For what,_ McGee had wondered, _the stimulating conversation?_

He received the text message he’d been waiting for and pulled out of the cell phone lot, driving toward the arrival lane of the airport to pick up their guests. Mossad had been their usual cryptic selves as to the nature of their visit, but there were few reasons for the foreign agency to contact NCIS now that their main connections had been severed. First Eli David’s passing, and then Ziva’s disappearance.

He wondered, not for the first time, if this visit had something to do with Ziva’s disappearance. It wasn’t like Mossad didn’t know about it, of course. They kept their fingers in a lot of pots, and the fact that Ziva had once been one of theirs meant that she was probably a regular subject of their surveillance and care.

It was almost comforting, if not a little unnerving.

He pulled up to where Orli and Malachi stood waiting, each of them with one small bag apiece, and he parked the car, exchanging pleasantries. Pruitt, for his part, hung back, though he had been gracious enough to shake the hands of the foreign visitors.

Orli opened the passenger door and sat up front, and Pruitt did not argue with her, to his great credit.

The drive was uneventful, and McGee asked Malachi how he’d been since the last time they’d seen each other, which had been under less-than-desirable circumstances. Not like there were ever _good_ circumstances when these two agencies met. It turned out Malachi had gotten married, and McGee congratulated him, but the conversation stalled after that, since McGee didn’t feel comfortable talking about Delilah with someone he really didn’t know that well.

When they arrived at NCIS headquarters and stepped up to the bullpen, Orli wasted no time in briefing Director Vance, Gibbs, McGee, and the rest of the team on the reason for her visit. She’d called the Director only briefly, to tell him that she would be traveling to the States immediately and to expect her arrival. “Gentlemen, I must be clear. I am here on less than favorable terms. I was cornered at Mossad headquarters by an organization called Widow.”

McGee’s eyes widened at her words, and Orli noted his reaction. “Ahh, so you are familiar with them. They have reached out to you, as well?”

“More than once,” Gibbs confirmed, wondering where this was going.

“They were not terribly pleasant, I must say,” Orli continued dryly. “They threatened me and some of my officers, saying that they would harm us if we did not tell them the whereabouts of one Ziva David.”

“Three men, all of whom I’ve already run facial recognition on,” Malachi cut in, placing three photos on a table in front of them. “Nothing came up. I do not recognize them, and neither does anyone else at Mossad. They are young – amateurs, so it is likely that none of them are ranking officials within the organization, and I suspect that all of them will turn up dead by the end of the month. It is unlikely that following them as leads will get us anywhere, but it might be smart to try and locate them while you can.”

McGee’s eyes remained wide open at the realization. He should have known that the visit would have something to do with Ziva, but he never imagined that Widow would be so bold as to reach out to Mossad. “But you don’t know where-”

She interrupted him. “They assume that I do, or that I would have – oh, what was the word – some ‘insight’ as to her whereabouts, seeing as Mossad trained her.”

Gibbs chuckled. “They don’t know much about Mossad, huh?” McGee looked at him quizzically, and both Orli and Malachi cracked slight smiles at the interjection. He noted that Thompson and Pruitt also seemed to be confused by this conversation.

“Mossad trains its officers to disappear, yes, but does not train us in any specifics,” Malachi explained. “Sure, they cover the basics – use paper currency and not electronic means, don’t take anything that can be tracked to yourself, slip out in plain sight – things like that. But there are no explicit procedures for going off-grid. Everyone at Mossad knows that.”

McGee was still confused. “I thought Widow once included Bodnar, though. Wouldn’t they know that?”

“Widow would not trust Bodnar to be truthful, particularly if they thought Bodnar might have a reason to lie to them. If, for example, he had needed to leave Widow and go into hiding, they would have reason to suspect that he had not been entirely truthful about Mossad’s training methods.”

“Then why would they believe _you?”_ McGee asked Orli, wincing at how rude he’d sounded as he asked the question.

“They did not,” Orli answered simply, not bothered in the least by McGee’s line of questioning. “They are reaching for anything they can hold onto, which suggests to me that they are growing increasingly desperate to find your agents.”

“Not our agents,” Leon responded casually, but he knew that it held little weight to anyone in the room, save for Pruitt and Thompson, who hadn’t known the pair. True, Agents DiNozzo and David were no longer official members of the NCIS roster, but they would always be important to the team, and this case had become a priority, though the leads had been few and far between.

“And yet, you still wish to protect them, hmm?” Orli knew that she had them there – none of the people present, including the two newest members of the team, could stand aside if there was some way that they could help Tony and Ziva escape this threat.

“So, Director Elbaz, what do you suggest?” Director Vance had turned to address only Orli, and she turned to face him, meeting him head-on.

“I suggest you find your agents before Widow does.”

* * *

Day had turned to evening, and Ziva was still not any closer to giving birth. She was still lying on her side on the ground, clinging to Tony’s hand, and Tony was still trying to keep her calm, despite not knowing how much longer he’d have to watch her suffer through it.

The contractions were holding steady, long bursts of pain followed by a brief interlude, and Ziva began to try to mentally count the time in between them, but she got distracted each time by her worry over what she should be doing. Finally, she turned to Tony after a particularly painful contraction had passed. “You can tell when I am having one, yes?” she asked, fairly sure that he could, but wanting to make sure.

“You squeeze the crap out of my hand the whole time, Ziva, yeah,” he joked, and she was too drained to say anything in response to his sarcasm. If that had him worried, he didn’t show it, but she had to know that he felt terrible that he could do nothing for her.

“I need you to time how long they last. Find a way to count. And then count how long before the next one.”

Tony began to nod, but he was wondering how that might help. “Are you sure that’s going to…” He didn’t finish the question. Neither he nor Ziva was an expert, but if Ziva thought it would help the process, he wouldn’t argue with her.

“On the next one,” she said between gritted teeth, squeezing his hand tightly as she suffered through another one. This was the most painful thing she had ever done in her life, but god, she wanted this child, and she was prepared to do whatever it took, even go through _this._ Not like they could go back now.

Once the pain from the current contraction subsided, she met Tony’s gaze, and he nodded at her, saying, “I’ve got you.” She breathed slowly, trying to concentrate on that aspect of things, knowing instinctively that whatever happened she did need to breathe, and before long, she was squeezing Tony’s hand, and he was counting to himself, moving his lips as he did so. Ziva closed her eyes against the pain again, waiting out the pain, and when it had passed, she looked up to see that Tony had scribbled something quickly into the dirt and was counting anew, timing how long it was before the next one.

God, but she loved him.

He was here to support her despite neither of them knowing what to do. Neither of them could just pack up and walk away _now,_ but he’d done everything she’d asked without hesitation, trusting that she knew what she needed in order to do this. He hadn’t left her side in hours, despite probably being hungry and tired himself. Another contraction hit and Tony wrote the number he’d counted to on the off-cycle into the dirt, and once it passed, he told her what he’d counted.

“The contraction lasted about 87 seconds, and it was just over two minutes before the next one started. Uh, Ziva, do you even know how long this stuff is supposed to be?”

“No,” she admitted, heaving a tired sigh. She tried to wrack her brain, trying to think of anything she had ever heard about labor and delivery, looking for _any_ information she could retrieve that might help her with this process, but she was exhausted as it was, and she was having more and more trouble focusing on anything but the pain.

“Ziva, it’s going to be okay,” Tony said softly, stroking her hair, and she huffed out an indignant breath at that. He tried to be as soothing as possible, but he knew that there was hardly anything he could do. _He_ couldn’t tell her how much longer it was going to be.

“Tony…” she trailed off when another contraction hit.

He continued to hold her through it, encouraging her to breathe deeply, to focus on only the sound of his voice. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d say he was hypnotizing her, but having something to focus on was actually helping, at least a little. “You have to have faith, Ziva,” he said softly when she finally relaxed again. “Your body is going to know what to do.”

“My body seems to be rebelling against me at this current moment,” she said dryly, and Tony laughed at that. She shook weakly, a faint smile on her lips, but she was exhausted, and she had no idea how much longer it would be before they would have their child. Or maybe she was supposed to be actually doing something and it would never come out, and they’d be stuck in this infinite contraction loop until they both died of starvation.

 _Well,_ that _wasn’t very likely_ , she rationalized. “Call it a hunch,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead. He didn’t want to leave her for very long, but it was getting dark out and they were still outside, thinking it would be less messy to have the child out there. Tony had lain the tarp down on the ground to catch the blood and whatever else it should, but now he was thinking that it might be a good idea to move Ziva inside, just in case something happened to stumble upon two humans who were obviously in a very difficult position, defense-wise.

“Maybe we should move inside,” he suggested, and Ziva glared at him as she struggled through another contraction, but despite the pain and her difficulty concentrating on much of anything else, she couldn’t help feeling that he was right.

She just wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to get up for that long. “Need… you… to… help me,” she gasped out, and Tony nodded in response.

“Okay Ziva, listen to me. When this contraction ends, I’m going to help you stand, okay? And then I’m going to walk you back into the house and help you sit down. I’ll stay with you through the next one, and then I’ll come back out here and get the tarp and bring it inside, and then you can lie back down, okay?”

The pain was excruciating, but she seemed to hear him, as she nodded quickly against the pain. She still held his hand in a vice grip through every single one, and while he was certain nothing was broken, he knew that it would be to his benefit when Ziva was finished giving birth so his poor hand could remember how it felt not to be numb.

The contraction ended, and Tony carefully reached behind Ziva and lifted her up, making sure that she was able to walk before he put his arm around her waist and led her inside. They were walking slowly, and while Ziva felt somewhat steady on her feet, she didn’t want to risk walking without his support, as her whole body was exhausted and she also felt very weak. Not a feeling she was exactly used to, but then again, neither was childbirth.

They’d barely gotten across the threshold and into the door when the next contraction hit, and Ziva stopped short, her knees locking as she crashed against him, and Tony had to steady himself against the door frame just to keep upright. He hadn’t been expecting that they wouldn’t make it into the house before the next contraction hit, and he wasn’t sure if Ziva even could stand on her own through the pain without him holding her upright. He rubbed her back lightly, hoping that it was helping to ease the pressure, but she merely leaned forward, trying to breathe through it until it ended, taking a deep breath. “I hope standing up didn’t hurt anything,” he murmured, but Ziva was too out of it to even pay attention to him. He led her slowly to the bench near the kitchen table and sat her down, waiting with her for the next contraction to hit. Once it did, he again rubbed her back and tried to soothe her as best as he could, and when it ended he rushed out of the house as quickly as he could to grab the tarp and the two pillows he’d brought out earlier.

As soon as he came back in, he noted that Ziva was hissing with pain again, and it seemed as though the contractions were coming much closer together than before. He dropped everything and walked over to her, taking her in his arms and comforting her through another contraction. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, but he doubted she even heard him, so consumed she was with breathing through the pain.

She surprised him when she answered, after the pain ceased. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she murmured, squeezing his hand lightly. He kissed her on the forehead and then the lips before parting from her, spreading out the tarp on the ground and arranging the pillows so that she could go back into a reclining position.

“On the bed,” she breathed, and Tony looked at her, confused. That wasn’t what they had talked about when they’d discussed how they would handle the delivery part of this entire process. They’d chosen to use the tarp so that cleanup after would be simple, and setting her up on the bed might make things more difficult.

Still, he didn’t want to argue, since she was the one going through labor, so Tony sat through another contraction with her, and then took the sleeping bag off the bed so that he could spread the tarp over it, and then led Ziva over to the bed, sitting her down on the edge of it as she worked through yet another contraction.

She pushed herself back so that she was leaning against the wall, sitting sideways on the bed, and motioned for Tony to hand her the pillows. He obliged, and he helped her sit forward so that she could arrange the pillows to her liking. She was able to prop her legs on the edge of the bed, and Tony marveled at her thinking, though he wasn’t sure he was really ready for this whole delivery thing. Still.

He was ready for it to be _over,_ but he had to actually get through the delivery part first, which terrified him. “Do you think it is close?” he asked her, and she shook her head lazily. She didn’t know, and neither did he, but maybe now she could be a bit more comfortable as they waited for their child to finally decide it was ready to be born.

Tony slid up the bed and sat beside her, holding her hand again and calming her through every contraction. It was well into nighttime now, and the crickets were chirping outside their window in between Ziva’s cries of discomfort. It might have been hours that they lay there, but Tony had no way of knowing, so he just sat up with her, hoping that it would all be over soon.

“Ungh,” Ziva grunted, shifting slightly. Tony shot up, fear in his eyes as he spoke to her.

“What, what? Is everything okay?”

“It feels…” she winced, shutting her eyes against the pain. “Pressure. I… I can feel it.” She looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I think it’s time for me to push now.”

“Are you sure?” Just then, a sensation that Ziva would never be able to describe for as long as she lived overtook her. It was a feeling that her body was actually pushing _for_ her, and she struggled against it, momentarily. She didn’t know if she was _supposed_ to push yet, but her body was not exactly giving her that option.

“It’s like…” she struggled against it, panting as she clung to Tony’s hand. “It’s almost like… pushing… on its own…”

Tony didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t, at least not right away. He had never heard such a thing, but then again, he hadn’t ever been in a delivery room before. “Maybe you should help it along? Do you think you should push?”

He had no idea if what he was suggesting was correct, but if her body was trying to force the baby out on its own, then maybe she should help it. Maybe that’s just how it _worked._ “Okay,” she breathed, and she waited. The next contraction, she would do it. “Next one,” she said, bracing herself. Perhaps soon it would be over.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, and he did. He wasn’t sure if he was needed more to hold her hand or to catch the baby as it came out, but he decided to stay with her as long as he could. Soon, she was tensing again, and he knew it was time. He opted not to tell her to push, despite what he’d seen in pretty much every movie, trusting that she would when she was good and ready. “You’ve got this, Ziva,” he encouraged just as she squeezed his hand harder than before and bore down, her chin into her chest as she pushed.

She panted for breath when she couldn’t possibly push any longer, sucked in one deep breath, and pushed again, trying harder this time. She could feel it now, the baby was so close, and it was trying to get out. She’d never expected that it would feel like this, like her whole body was trying to force the child out of her, but she felt immense pride at her body knowing what her mind did not. Ziva made one more push before the contraction ended, and she leaned back, taking deep breaths as she waited for the next one.

“How do you feel?” Tony asked, not wanting to give her words of encouragement she probably didn’t want. She squeezed his hand – lightly, this time – and laughed quietly, her eyelids drooping, heavy with her exhaustion.

“Exhausted,” she answered honestly, “but ready. I do not think it will be long.” As if her body had been waiting for her to finish her sentence, another contraction hit her, and Ziva resumed helping it push, giving all she had to the effort. She was panting in between, but she managed to push three more times during the current contraction, leaning her head back on the pillow, her hair soaked with sweat as she prepared herself for the next bout.

“Almost done,” Tony whispered, and she smiled at him, as best she could, given the circumstances. Unlike what she had seen in movies, she did not want to scream obscenities at him, or curse his name for getting her in this predicament. He had been nothing but supportive the entire time, and she knew she was strong enough to handle this.

“I love you,” she whispered, and Tony stared at her, surprised. He, too, had been expecting Ziva to launch into a tirade of hatred, the likes of which he had never seen, but she hadn’t. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, patting her cheek lightly before he leaned back, getting ready for the next contraction. Soon, they would have their baby.

He could hardly believe it was happening, that he was leaning over her on a homemade bed in the middle of absolute nowhere while she prepared to bring a child – _their child ­_ – into the world. He’d had months to prepare, but it suddenly didn’t feel like enough. Everything was about to change.

Tony mentally headslapped himself. He couldn’t panic _now._ Ziva needed him.

As soon as he snapped himself out of it, she was in the midst of another contraction, and he watched as her face contorted with concentration and sheer will, as she pushed with all her might, holding onto his hand for dear life. “Oh,” she groaned, “I feel it, like… it’s like a burning, Tony. I can’t…” she started to push again, unable to form the words. “I think… it’s… I think it’s finally coming out,” she gasped, and Tony let her hand go so that he could check.

What he saw was nothing short of amazing. Ziva had been right, and the baby’s head was indeed beginning to emerge. “You have to keep going,” he instructed, not sure how this was supposed to work, but certain that it would… it would _suffocate,_ right? Ziva met his gaze and understood what he was saying without words, and she bore down again, harder than she ever had in her life, and he watched with disbelief as more of the head began to emerge.

Another push and the head was almost completely out, and Tony urged her to push one more time. “We’ve got this,” he encouraged, and he almost slapped himself for the use of _we,_ but Ziva didn’t seem to notice, she just waited for the next contraction and pushed as soon as she felt the urge.

Once the head finally came through, it was only two smaller pushes before the entire baby was out, and Tony couldn’t resist being the one to check. “It’s a girl, Ziva,” he breathed, and soon there were tears running down his face as he held her, and then he was handing the baby over to Ziva, who held her close to her skin and breathed with exhaustion.

“Hi, beautiful,” she cooed, tears running down her face as she looked upon her daughter, memorizing her beautiful face the instant she laid her eyes upon it. She was perfect. “She isn’t crying,” Ziva said, trying not to panic. Tony had noted that as well, but didn’t know if he was supposed to do anything. The doctors on TV always spanked the baby, but he had no intention of causing any harm to his child, whether she would remember it or not. He looked at the baby’s nose and did what he could to unblock her airway, and soon she let out a loud wail, and both he and Ziva joined in, their relief evident as Ziva held her, doing her best to soothe the baby’s shock at being brought into the world.

“You should clean her,” Ziva said after several minutes, but Tony didn’t exactly want to pull her away from her mother. Ziva had worked hard to birth her, and she should have all the time she wanted with her.

“Right now? Why don’t you rest, hold her for a bit?” he offered, not wanting to take her away so soon. “Or at least, you hold her while I go get some water, and I can clean her in here. I don’t … I don’t want to take her outside right now.”

Ziva understood immediately what Tony was feeling. He was afraid, afraid to handle her. “You won’t break her, Tony,” she said softly, and he smiled at her, but she could still see the doubt in his eyes. Still, he left the house just long enough to get some water and a clean cloth to clean the baby with, and Ziva relaxed as she felt her daughter’s soft breathing against her skin.

When he came back and Tony moved to take her, she realized that they hadn’t cut the umbilical cord. Laughing, she instructed Tony to get a knife, and he did, working slowly and carefully to cut the cord, not wanting to take any risk of cutting their precious newborn, who had already fallen asleep peacefully against Ziva’s chest.

Once the cord was cut, Tony took the baby and cleaned her off, finally wrapping her up, first in a small cloth, one of many that they would be using as a diaper, and then in a larger one meant to be a blanket. She didn’t stir through the entire process, and Ziva watched with interest, too exhausted still to attempt getting up. Tony set her down in the basket he had made for her, amazed at how beautiful she truly was, finally looking over at Ziva, who seemed to be thinking the same.

“Oh,” Tony said suddenly, noticing that the umbilical cord was still there, and he blushed a little. “Uh, Ziva, the cord…” he said, unsure what he was supposed to do with that.

“I have heard about this before,” she said softly, remembering hearing about the afterbirth from other women. “It is the afterbirth, the placenta and… other things, I believe. I do not know all of it. Just help me out, I think I am just supposed to push it out.” There was no use feeling awkward about it now, but Ziva couldn’t help it. Soon enough, however, that part of the process was taken care of, and she felt, for the moment, like she wanted to attempt to get up.

“Hand me a pair of underwear,” she instructed, and Tony reached into her bag where she kept her clothes and handed her a pair. Unfortunately, she knew that she would be bleeding for a while, and she didn’t exactly have any pads, so she’d have to be creative about dealing with that part of things. She and the baby would probably both be wearing some sort of diaper for a while.

Once she slid the panties on, she stepped cautiously over to where the baby lay sleeping, wrapping her arms around Tony and kissing him on the shoulder. She was _very_ sore, but she didn’t want to just lie around, feeling as though getting up and being active would aid in the healing process. “She is perfect,” Ziva murmured against his skin, and he agreed, turning to pull her into his arms, kissing her gently.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and Ziva felt just how overcome with emotion he really was. She didn’t need to ask him why he was thanking her, she just knew.

It wasn’t long before the baby started to wail, indicating that there was something she needed, and Ziva picked her up gingerly, pulling her close to her and heading over to the bed, which Tony had thankfully removed the tarp from. Amazingly, the bed had remained clean thanks to their forethought.

Ziva carefully slid up onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, propping a pillow up behind her, and led the baby to her breast. She was surprised when the baby immediately responded to the nipple in front of her, suckling happily.

“Wow,” Tony breathed as he watched, and Ziva smiled, trying to hide a blush. Everything was so different now. The sensation of the baby breastfeeding was weird, and she giggled a little at how it felt to have the newborn latched on so firmly.

She could tell that Tony wanted to ask, so she spoke up for him. “No, it does not hurt,” she said, smiling lovingly as she caught his gaze. “It feels… weird though. My entire chest has tightened up. I cannot really describe it, but that must be how I know that I am lactating.” Her knowledge of her own body in the face of it doing extraordinary things astounded even her, and Tony smiled as he watched Ziva with the baby – _their_ baby, wondering what they were going to choose to name her.

He crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, watching with interest. He had always loved Ziva’s breasts, of course, but this was the first time he had ever seen them _this_ way. He was surprised to find that it did not really turn him on; that she was so maternal that they didn’t even really appeal to him _that_ way, at least not in this moment. He was more fascinated with how natural the whole thing was. Without any prodding or training, the baby had automatically understood what she was supposed to do. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Have you decided what to name her?” Tony asked quietly, lightly brushing the baby’s head with his hand, marveling at the tiny being now latched on to his wife’s chest. They’d spoken about it before, of course, but ultimately, he had left it up to her, stating that either of the names they’d agreed on would be perfectly fine with him. He had wanted to make sure that if she _did_ choose to name her after her sister, that it would be fully her decision.

“Every time I look at her, she looks like she _must_ be named Tali, so I am going to give her my sister’s name. Talia Antonia,” she said softly, and the baby raised her arm, an involuntary motion certainly, but it was almost as though she was accepting her new name.

“Talia Antonia DiNozzo,” Tony spoke, and his heart swelled with pride. This beautiful new life was _his,_ half him and half Ziva, and she was everything he never knew he’d wanted in life. “I’m so proud of you, Ziva,” he breathed, and she leaned toward him as much as she could without disturbing Tali, kissing him passionately as they held their child against her.

“I had help,” she said when they finally pulled apart, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes.

“All you,” he argued, though he appreciated her acknowledgement all the same. “I love you,” he said, kissing her a second time, breaking apart only to add, “Both.”

“I love you, too,” she breathed, and they sat together on their bed, baby Tali suckling away happily, reveling in their new family unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look for Chapter 15 on Monday!


	15. Far from Ideal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva and Tony adjust to parenthood, NCIS and Mossad continue to work together, and Widow continues their search for the hidden pair.

“I’ll get her,” Tony mumbled in his sleepy state as Tali began to wail for the second time that night. They certainly didn’t need any sort of alarm clock with her around, although they certainly didn’t have to worry about lack of sleep affecting their jobs at this point, which seemed to be a plus.

“Bring her here,” Ziva murmured, feeling her chest tighten with her milk, a strange bodily instinct she hadn’t known she would possess. Breastfeeding had felt weird the first few times, but now it was something she adored, having that closeness with her daughter, despite Tony’s stupid jokes about how he didn’t get to play with them anymore. She knew that he was joking, judging by the way he looked at them together.

Tony gathered Tali up in his arms, cooing to her in order to calm her down. It was, of course, no use, as she only wanted her mother, who was able to actually feed her. Daddy time was only when she was _not_ hungry. Bending down to kiss her on her forehead, Tony passed Tali over to Ziva, who had already sat up for the task of nursing, watching as Tali latched on comfortably and began to suckle, to the sound of Ziva’s loving praise.

If there was one thing Tony missed most about civilization right now, it was having a camera readily available so that he could catalog and remember this moment for the rest of his life. They couldn’t have predicted this scenario when they’d left, and a camera would have been a pointless bit of extra weight. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he looked on at his two girls, and Ziva caught his eye, smiling back.

“You’re both so beautiful,” he said quietly, and her smile grew even bigger, if that were possible.

“She looks like _you_ though,” Ziva teased, and Tony leaned backward slightly, feigning offense at her words.

Crossing back to the bed and sitting down beside her, he took Tali’s hand with her finger, and wiggled it when she grasped on tightly. “DiNozzo men have _excellent_ genes,” he said haughtily, leaning down to kiss the top of Ziva’s head, taking in the fresh scent of her curls in the early hours before dawn. “Besides,” he continued, “You love her just as much as you love me.”

“I may love her more,” she joked, her eyes twinkling as she looked at him.

He leaned in to kiss her, taking her lips hungrily, careful not to get in Tali’s way as she ate, oblivious to anything but her meal. “You say that,” he said, giving her another small peck on the lips, “but I see the way you look at me, Miss David.”

“That’s Mrs. DiNozzo, if you don’t mind,” she corrected, and her heart swelled at the grin that spread across his face. It didn’t matter how many times he heard it. Every time she said or otherwise insinuated that she was his _wife,_ he couldn’t help but feel his heart overflow with love and pride.

Tony gave her a slight squeeze as he lay back down on the bed, facing his wife and daughter. This middle of the night business was a difficult adjustment, but he didn’t want to feel like he was abandoning Ziva to do all of the late night work of being a parent, even if he couldn’t really participate in the feeding portion of it.

“You can go back to sleep, you know.” Ziva noticed how his eyes drooped as he watched them, sleepy and still unadjusted to the midnight routine.

Tony yawned, covering his mouth as he did so. “It doesn’t seem fair that you’re up and I’m asleep,” he countered, reaching over and placing his hand lightly against her leg, just wanting to reassure her that he was there; he wouldn’t leave her alone in this.

“When she starts to eat solid foods, you can get up with her at the crack of dawn,” Ziva teased, noting that Tali had stopped suckling and seemed to be falling asleep, full. Her cheeks were rosy and soft, and her eyes were closed as she breathed evenly out her nose. Ziva used the edge of her shirt to wipe the excess milk from the baby’s face, and stood up slowly so as not to disturb her. As gently as she could, she set Tali down and began to work at the cloth diaper they’d wrapped her in, wiping her gently so that she wouldn’t awaken.

Once Ziva was satisfied that Tali was cleaned up, she covered her up with another cloth and laid her gently in her basket. Tali was startled for a second, her arm jerking involuntarily, before settling down and beginning another few hours of deep slumber. Watching her for just a moment before turning back to the bed, Ziva let out a contented sigh at the unexpected turn their lives had taken.

Tony was asleep when she returned to the bed, and Ziva crawled under the covers as silently as she could, so as not to disturb him. She smiled as she snuggled against him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before settling down for as much sleep as she could get before Tali would wake again.

The next time she woke, Tony was carrying Tali toward her, the baby’s wails interrupting a rather pleasant – but fading – dream. Ziva turned lazily to her side, sliding over on the bed and motioning to Tony to bring the baby down to her.

“She needs you, mama.” She smiled as she reached sleepily toward her, anchoring the baby against her and letting her eat as they both drifted back to sleep. The next time Ziva woke, Tali was still asleep and Tony was tiptoeing around the cabin, putting some of the cleaned diaper cloths away.

He’d been right about the shelves. As she surveyed the cabin, she noted how quickly that natural rock shelf had begun to fill with things, and they’d already chosen to build another shelf to place in the corner of the cabin so they could store more things. Despite their lack of modern amenities, they’d amassed quite the collection of stuff.

Perhaps most surprising was their ability to raise Tali without all of the “necessities” most parents would have wanted. Still, Tali was doing quite well without. The fact that she nursed happily and did not require the use of a bottle was most important, of course, but they hadn’t even needed traditional diapers to ensure that Tali remained happy, healthy, and clean, despite their existence being akin to one big camping trip.

“We’re actually doing this,” Ziva mused quietly, not wanting to wake the baby as she peered down on her daughter’s sleeping form.

Tony smiled at her, understanding her meaning almost immediately. “It really didn’t seem possible, did it?”

She shrugged in response, glancing at him for a moment before returning her gaze to their child. “I wouldn’t say that. We both know that indigenous tribes of all regions raised children in this way for centuries.”

Neither of them spoke for several minutes, until Ziva finally broke the silence again. “Well I guess if we ever get back to civilization, it’ll be a piece of cake.” _When we have another one,_ she didn’t add, but he recognized the unspoken words underneath what she had said.  

“Do you want to have another one?” They’d joked about the possibility a few times, but they’d never really seriously talked about having more children. Or having any children in the first place, which was kind of funny considering they already had one.

“Right now?”

“Well obviously not, but… eventually?”

“Well Tony, I think it is not a matter of whether we necessarily want to. Unless you _want_ to refrain from sex, since we do not have any birth control.” She didn’t add any more to her statement, letting it sink in for a moment. If they were going to continue to have sex, then they were probably going to end up having more children. _This_ they’d talked about before, and even though one of them had suggested pulling out, she knew just as well as he did that it was unlikely that would work for an extended amount of time. It hadn’t even taken that long for them to conceive Tali, if she was doing the math in her head correctly.  

“Couldn’t we do that counting thing?” he asked, unsure of himself. He’d never personally concerned himself much with a woman’s cycle, and it was pretty sad, now that he really thought about it, how little he knew.

Ziva smiled absently as she watched Tali sleep. Despite the fact that they were still lying down in their bed and she wanted to go back to sleep for a bit, she was reluctant to get up, even to put Tali back down into her own bed. “We could, but that method is not always accurate,” she mused. It would not hurt, of course, but if they were going to remain out here indefinitely, it was likely that they would have another child.

To be honest with herself, however, she wasn’t even _thinking_ about sex just yet. Although her post-pregnancy bleeding had stopped some time ago, she wasn’t feeling particularly up to sexual activity just yet. She knew that Tony would be up for it whenever, but that he wasn’t going to press the issue until she was feeling completely ready again. And aside from needing time to heal, she was so damn tired from the lack of sleep that she had absolutely no libido at the moment anyway.

Still, it didn’t hurt to consider the possibility that Tali would not be their only child. Now that they’d opened that door, it would be hard to walk back through it. Perhaps it wouldn’t be right away, but Ziva could all but guarantee that they would have more children.

“You _do_ want more kids, right?” Tony asked, seeming nervous about how she would answer. Tali hadn’t exactly been a planned pregnancy, but she had never been unwanted, not from the day they’d known of her existence.

Ziva finally scooped Tali up carefully and carried her back to her own bed, setting her down gently before returning to the bed with Tony, lying down facing him. “I do want more kids, Tony,” she spoke, snuggling in closer to him, her breath hot against his bare skin. “I do think we should at least try to wait before we have another, but I also am just being realistic. It is not likely that we will have much control over that, even if we are careful.”

“I could just pull out,” he offered, knowing even as he said it that it was a weak suggestion, and Ziva scoffed at him, remembering the last time they’d talked about it.

 _“That_ does not work,” was her retort, and Tony shrugged, the beginnings of a grin on his face. Pulling out was a terrible birth control method, and they both knew it. And despite Tony’s offer, she knew that he absolutely loved when they both came together, and that would be much more difficult to achieve if he was not inside her when he did. If it was actually an effective birth control method, she might consider it, but it wasn’t.

For the first time since before Tali’s birth, Ziva started to feel a slight rush of heat between her legs, just from thinking about him being inside of her. Oh, it had been a while, but she was still not ready yet, she could sense it. They would need more time before she was ready for sex again. Still, it was good to feel that familiar pull of desire, and she wanted to let him know that it was still there.

Leaning forward, she kissed him hungrily, wrapping her free arm around his neck and pulling him to her, deepening the embrace. She felt him stirring beside her, and despite his tiredness, he was kissing her back thoroughly, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and sliding her roughly against his skin. She groaned into his mouth as she pulled away, punctuating with another, smaller kiss, and he breathed into the moment, saying, “I miss you, Ziva.”

She knew what he meant, and she smiled in return. “I know, Tony, but not yet.” Kissing him again, softly this time, she pulled away only to add, “I miss you too.” He shuddered against her, holding her tight, and soon they were both asleep, awakened again only when Tali made her hunger known to her parents.

* * *

“What is that?”

Three men peered over a small screen that displayed ultra-violet images, indicating whenever something living was present. At this current moment, it appeared that there were three bodies of some sort, but the thermal imaging had so far proven to be difficult to read. The last time they’d come down, it had appeared as though there were only two people on the screen, when reality had shown them that there were three present.

This was probably the most inefficient method possible to find someone, but their boss had insisted, and so here they were. “Looks like three bodies,” Daniel said, pointing at the screen.

“Should we check it out?”

“You heard the boss. We’re to investigate anything that might be our marks,” Tamir reminded them.

Levi sighed in frustration. “This is pointless. We’re probably going to find another pair of hunters who are trying to bring back their latest haul. For all we know, they’ve holed up in some village somewhere, hiding in plain sight.”

“That doesn’t seem right, though. They won’t want to take the chance that someone will recognize them, or that their faces will end up on some social media blog post.”

Levi groaned in response. “Either way, it will take us months, maybe years to find them. There are seven billion people on this planet, and we are looking for two of them. I do not wish to speak ill of the boss, but he is asking for us to do the impossible.”

“If you keep complaining, I am sure you know what will happen,” Daniel warned him. Their leader had killed other members of their organization for much less. “Best to just do what he asks and not question him. Otherwise he may think you not loyal.”

A chill went up Levi’s spine. He’d seen firsthand what Rafi Aman was capable of, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. “Well, I am not doubting his intelligence, of course. If he says we do it this way, then we do it this way, right?”

The other two men were silent at that. Both knew that Levi should simply stop talking at this point. Aman wasn’t currently on the communication line, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to get any of the men to turn on each other if he felt that there was any sort of dissension in the ranks. Rafi Aman would much prefer they do his bidding, of course, but he would not stand for disloyalty.

“Where are we right now?” Daniel asked finally, choosing to change the subject.

“Uh … we’re over Mali, not far from the border of Algeria,” Tamir replied, looking at the GPS they’d been using for navigation. They were looking specifically in uninhabited areas of the globe, as all three of them knew that these areas were the most likely places for Ziva David and her partner to have gone. They hadn’t even trusted their team members back at NCIS with their location, let alone strangers they might encounter, be they in a city or in a more rural area. Therefore, they’d looked up population density maps from varying sources in order to determine where the two might have gone. They’d chosen to start in Africa.

It was slow going and _very_ tedious, but this was what the boss wanted them to do, and none of them saw any benefit to arguing. Aside from Levi’s line of questioning a few minutes ago, all three of them had obeyed to the letter.

“Shall we head down, see what we can find?” This had been the way of things – they’d find what appeared to be a few isolated bodies, they’d rappel down from the helicopter and look around, trying to determine what they’d found. This had already happened two other times, and both times had been fruitless – the first had been a couple of animals they’d been unable to discern from humans, and the second had been three hunters who had reacted negatively to the threat of intruders. One had thrown a spear at Tamir, who had barely evaded its arc.

“Maybe we should wait until nightfall, come back when whatever it is has gone to sleep. We do not need to be attacked by natives again.”

“So what, you just want to wait it out here?”

“Mark the coordinates and we will come back,” Daniel directed. Tamir marked the coordinates down on their log book and Levi steered the chopper forward, looking for their next set of blobs on the heat map.

Levi hoped, for all their sake, that the Americans were nearby. He wasn’t sure he could stomach the thought of doing this for years on end.

* * *

“Do you think this will work?” Abby asked the group of agents and officers that surrounded her computer in her lab. If any more people came to work on this case, she mused, they wouldn’t all be able to fit.

“It’s worth a shot. We sure weren’t making any headway any other way,” McGee replied, but he had his own doubts. If reaching out to some of Ziva’s contacts – many of whom would be reluctant to even _talk_ to any of them, including the Mossad officers – could yield any sort of information as to the whereabouts of the two missing agents, then he was willing to give it a shot.

Malachi spoke then, standing up from the stool he’d previously been perched on. “I would not expect to get much from these contacts. Even if Ziva had reached out to any of them – and I highly doubt it, if she was truly hoping to keep a low profile – they are unlikely to give anything away. They will not want to talk to you,” he nodded toward the American agents, “nor will they want to talk to us.”

Gibbs sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, and Orli crossed her arms around her chest. It was obvious that neither of them particularly relished the idea of working together, but if it meant bringing Ziva and Tony back to safety, they’d both put aside their differences and do whatever it took. Orli had very little personal interest in bringing the Americans home, but there were plenty of reasons to help out that would benefit her position as Director of Mossad.

“Well,” McGee started, looking at the list of names that had populated from the thumb drive Malachi had given him, “this is more than we had before. Ziva has never mentioned that she had this many contacts.”

“These are not even all of her contacts, Agent McGee,” Orli said coolly, her face expressionless. “We have no way of knowing just who else she might have made contact with since leaving Mossad.”

“Still…” Abby cut in, shrugging. It was better than nothing.

“We may need the assistance of some translators, that is, unless you have some other linguists on your team?” Malachi nodded toward Thompson and Pruitt, who had been standing silently by, observing the interactions between their teammates and the officers from a foreign agency.

“I can speak French,” Thompson supplied, feeling a bit out of place. French was a common language, and it was likely that one of the others knew it and would be much more useful in making contact with francophones.

“We can use that,” McGee said with a nod of his head, glad to see Thompson putting her neck out a bit more. He knew what it was like to be the new person and to be intimidated by high-profile personalities, particularly ones from Israel. Hell, when he was new, it was nearly a full year before he felt fully comfortable around _Ziva,_ let alone any of the people who had come from her side of the world. The Israelis simply had a different way of doing things, and it had unnerved him for a while until he got used to it. “What about you, Pruitt?”

“Nothing but English, I’m afraid,” the man shrugged.

“You can help me then,” Abby offered, and Pruitt nodded toward her gratefully. At least in Abby’s lab he could feel somewhat useful.

Malachi ignored this exchange, continuing. “We will look at which contacts we should hope to reach out to, and who can reach out to each contact. I have contacts on this list who will not speak to men. I have contacts on this list who only speak to native speakers of Hebrew. Some will be deep undercover and unreachable. We cannot begin contacting any of them today.”

Orli broke in, adding input of her own. “Some of them will not be willing to speak to you, and will not be kind about telling you to – how do you say – fuck off. You must not press them. If they tell you no, you thank them and end the contact. Is that clear?”

Everyone in the room nodded, even those who were not likely to make contact with anyone. It seemed there was at least some semblance of a plan in place, and McGee was suddenly feeling a lot more useful than he’d felt in well over a year.

“Do you think they’ll be all right in the meantime?” Abby spoke up, voicing the one concern that she knew McGee and probably Gibbs also shared.

“It is hard to say,” Orli responded, almost infuriatingly calmly. “We know that Widow is looking for them. After seeing how they operate, I can guarantee that there are people out right now trying to find your missing agents.”

“The thing is,” Malachi cut in, “Widow is not likely to wait long after they’ve found Tony and Ziva before they attack. And it’s unlikely that they will bring more than a few people for searching. Or they may have multiple search groups out, looking through an area. So when they are found, Widow will most likely attack with whatever team they have. It may only be three or four men, which we all know Ziva can handle. With DiNozzo there, the small crack team should be no trouble for the two of them.”

That didn’t sound so bad, McGee mused, but there had to be a catch. “And then what? Won’t Widow just send more people out after them?”

“They’ll pack up and be gone immediately. They will pack up whatever essentials they can’t do without and they’ll be miles away from wherever they’d been staying by nightfall, provided neither of them are injured.”

“Given the way Ziva fights,” Gibbs said, “and the way she has probably trained DiNozzo to fight, I’d say injury is unlikely.” Gibbs and McGee exchanged a glance at that – both of them know that Ziva would ignore any injury entirely and keep fighting until she physically couldn’t anymore.

Malachi nodded. “It’s a safe bet that even if one of them is injured, they wouldn’t stick around. They’d dress whatever wound the best they could and disappear again, leaving no clues as to where they’ve gone.”

“What if they don’t just send a few men?” Abby asked, glancing over at McGee as she spoke. A chill ran up his spine at the thought, but it was something else for them to consider.

“That is the worst-case scenario, but it is a possibility. We do not know how Aman operates yet,” Orli replied. “He may wish to outnumber them so severely that they have no chance of survival. He may send out a scouting team to the location only to return later with a much larger group. Doing so would be risky for Widow though, as Ziva will likely recognize that they’ve been found and they will take off before the terrorists can come back.”

McGee wasn’t sure which option would be the most likely for Widow to take. They had frustratingly little information to go on. “So you think they’ll fight with whatever small team finds them first and just hope for the best?”

Malachi pursed his lips into a thin line before speaking. “Widow does not have to hope for the best. You have said yourselves that your agents did not bring any of their firearms with them, and chances are they did not buy any, which you also know. Ziva is certainly deadly without one, but their chances lower significantly when these men show up with semi-automatic assault rifles to counter their fists and knives. Ziva still can hold her own if they have a solid plan and have been training.”

“So they could win this,” McGee said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

“But what if they fight a small team and then just assume that’s all of them, and they decide it’s safe to come home, even when it’s not?” Abby glared at Malachi accusingly, as if he had been the one that had personally set Widow after her friends.

“They won’t. Ziva knows these men, I am certain of it. She has met Rafi Aman personally.” Orli didn’t elaborate as to how Ziva knew him, and no one asked. “And unless he comes for them himself and she personally sees him killed, she will know not to give up just yet.”

“So we could – in theory – come close to finding them, only for Widow to find them and cause them to flee again, leaving us no closer than before?” McGee asked, wondering just how fruitless this entire hunt could turn out to be.

“Pretty much,” Malachi responded with a cursory nod, his lips pursed together in a slight grimace. There wasn’t much else he could say.

Thompson was the next to cut in, also curious about the chances of survival for the pair she had yet to meet. “Is that a best-case scenario?”

Gibbs was the one to answer her, surprising everyone in the room when he spoke. “Well, no. The best-case scenario is that _we_ find them without Widow knowing about it. We bring them back, put them up somewhere safe, and we continue to act like we’re looking for them, until Widow comes back looking for us again. Then we take them out.”

“Basically, Tony and Ziva disappearing could be a cycle that continues indefinitely,” Malachi concluded. “As long as Rafi Aman can find people willing to fight on his behalf, he’ll send them after Ziva. Make no mistake, this is very personal to him, but he knows that Ziva is capable of. That is why he has chosen to get others to find her. He’d love to kill her himself, but he won’t risk his own ass to go looking for her. He’ll have her brought to him. He is a coward.”

“It sounds so scary,” Abby sighed, propping her head up with her fist, pouting slightly. Tony and Ziva could be on the run for years, possibly decades.

Malachi couldn’t disagree with her on that point. “Ziva will know what to do, in any case. The best thing we can hope is that they can get away from any altercation unscathed, and that nothing happens to either of them that could hinder their ability to get away quickly. They need to be unburdened by injury or anything else. If anything impedes their retreat, they are doomed.”  

* * *

The sling Tony had made so that she could carry Tali without her hands had to be one of the best things he’d done for her since they’d come out here.

It had taken him some trial and error, but once it was finished, he had been able to settle Tali in the sling and then loop it around Ziva’s neck, affording her the freedom to move about the house with the baby. It had also been convenient for breastfeeding, and Ziva had only to adjust Tali’s position slightly to allow her to nurse. She couldn’t wait to get out into the forest and back to hunting again, now that they had a way to handle Tali. They couldn’t very well leave her behind.

Looking down, Ziva noted that Tali showed no signs of waking, so Ziva stepped over to the small box they kept their cool drinks in. If they’d had any way to _really_ keep things cool, they would call this their refrigerator, but they’d managed to insulate it with moss and keep it recessed into the ground in order to keep their water fairly cool throughout the night, so they would not need to leave the house in the darkness nearly as much. There was a small amount of meat left from their most recent hunt, and she pulled it out to begin preparing their lunch, intending to use it all up so it wouldn’t spoil.

Tony had gone outside to the garden to pull up anything that had ripened and to replant what he could. The garden had become an excellent source of renewable food, but it wasn’t nearly enough to sustain them without the fish they caught regularly and the game – both large and small. Still, every bit helped, and they’d both developed green thumbs in the time they’d been out here.

Ziva hummed contentedly as she worked, noting with a smile just how _easy_ it was now to get things done now. Tali hadn’t really been a fussy baby, but she definitely did not enjoy being put down in her crib until it was night time, which had made life so much more difficult for Ziva since she’d been born.

As if she could sense her mother thinking about her, Tali began to fuss, her arm jerking and her face screwing up as she made the beginning sounds of a wail. Despite the pain she felt at seeing her daughter cry, it was – she had to admit – fascinating to watch how she came to wakefulness. She would start by jerking in her sleep, usually one of her arms or a foot. Next, her face would scrunch up, her brow furrowing tightly as she fought against the beginnings of consciousness. After that, it was usually some sort of whimper, her tiny lip trembling as she started to work herself into a fit, and not long after that – if neither her mother nor her father had picked her up yet – she would begin to cry in earnest.

This time, Ziva was already there, and all she had to do was lift up the tank top she’d been wearing and turn Tali ever so slightly, allowing her to latch onto her breast. She settled almost immediately, her incoming wail swallowed down as she ate happily. Ziva looked down at her daughter, transfixed by the sight before her. Lovingly, she brushed Tali’s curls with her thumb, the lunch preparation forgotten for the time being.

Just then, Tony walked back into the house, carrying a bowl full of vegetables he’d harvested, his hands dirty and his shoulders glistening with sweat. “Beans, beans,” he started to sing, then stopped when he saw the moment unfolding between mother and daughter.

“I guess the sling is working out pretty well, huh?” He said softly, setting the bowl of beans down on the table and crossing to them, watching with fascination as his family – _his family –_ bonded in their humble cabin.

“It’s perfect, Tony, thank you,” she said softly, leaning forward just enough and allowing him to meet her the rest of the way, kissing quickly over their daughter who was still suckling away quietly.

“Let me know when she’s done eating and I’ll change her diaper and carry her for a bit.”

“I quite like carrying her,” Ziva protested, though both of them noticed how she hadn’t argued over Tony changing her diaper.

He didn’t mind it that much anymore. Sure, it had been gross at first, but just like everything else, it had quickly grown to be routine. “Yeah, but you got to carry her for nine months. Can’t I get an hour or so?”

“One hour,” she said deliberately, and they both burst out laughing. An hour meant absolutely nothing to them anymore, and it had quickly become a joke they shared. The only marking of time they bothered with was every morning, when Ziva would make a mark on the rock face outside the cabin, indicating that another day of Tali’s life had passed.

“Why don’t I just carry her while we take a walk? After lunch, I mean?” He suggested, wanting to practice using the sling himself, as well.

“Sounds good.” Tali had finished eating and was already beginning to doze off again, so Ziva undid the sling and handed her carefully over to Tony, who took her over to get her changed. She smiled at Tony’s baby talk, something that had become a marvel in and of itself. Shaking her head, she tried to imagine how the rest of their team would respond to Tony as a father. Tony carefully cleaning their baby’s bottom, Tony wrapping her up in a clean cloth and tying it securely, Tony tickling her toes in an attempt to get her to smile – something she hadn’t yet done, but she was still practically a newborn.

Maybe someday, she mused. Maybe someday they would be able to return to the lives they’d left and introduce their daughter to the rest of her family.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Look for Chapter 16 on Friday.


	16. Stalemate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Tony and Ziva huddle for warmth on a cool morning, NCIS deals with another direct threat from Widow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter contains smut.

Ziva woke up refreshed, realizing as she stretched that Tali had not woken her up once the previous night. She had finally slept through the entire night, and was actually still sleeping.

Suddenly, Ziva grew alarmed, wondering if the baby was okay, and if the reason she hadn’t woken up yet was because…

Ziva stopped herself from finishing that thought and got out of bed quickly, walking over to the crib where Tali lay, fast asleep. She was _fine,_ Ziva realized with a sigh of relief. Perfectly fine. She would probably wake up soon enough, though, and Ziva stepped out of the house for a few minutes to take a dip in the stream, washing herself off now, since she probably wouldn’t get the chance to do it until much later. The water was cold, so she didn’t stay in too long – just long enough to scrub herself clean.

When she stepped out of the water and walked, shivering, back toward the house, she heard the beginning signs of Tali waking up. Quickly, she worked to get herself dressed, tying her hair up in a makeshift towel and piling it atop her head so that it wouldn’t drip everywhere. They’d be going outside later, she assumed, and the sun would likely dry her hair, but she’d let the fabric absorb the moisture for now.

Tony was showing signs of waking as well, which worked out since Tali was probably just a few moments from letting out a loud cry. Preempting her daughter, Ziva reached down and scooped her up, blankets and all, cooing to her softly as she sleepily settled against her mother’s bare skin, instinctively knowing what to do despite barely being awake. Ziva crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, noting as she did so that Tony had turned around in the bed, his back facing them, presumably to go back to sleep.

She let him.

Tali had been growing steadily, and sleeping through the night was just another milestone that they could celebrate. She was also beginning to show signs of teething, as she’d become especially fussy at nights, and always seemed to need something for her gums. Unfortunately, there weren’t many objects lying around for that purpose, but Tony’s fingers seemed to suffice in a pinch. Ziva had joked that he wouldn’t be so willing once the teeth actually came in and she started biting, but Tony had shrugged, saying, “How hard can an infant bite?”

Ziva shivered again and it shook her out of her thoughts as she realized just how chilly it was this morning. She then yawned, looking at her sleeping husband. Absently, she twirled her hair around her finger as the word passed through her mind, smiling as she watched their daughter. Tali had grown so strong already, learning now to lift her head up and roll to either side, which had amused Tony to no end. There was hardly room for him, but that didn’t stop him from rolling right beside her, causing the baby to smile that toothless grin.

They were so precious, and she loved them both so much it hurt.

Judging by the cool morning temperature and the way Tony still lazily lounged in bed, Ziva guessed it was still early in the morning, early enough that Tali might sleep a little while yet before wanting to get back up. A look down confirmed her suspicions, and Ziva cleaned her up, changed her, and got her settled back into her basket for a while. A few more hours of sleep sounded heavenly right now, but what she was really craving was getting into the bed with her husband and stealing some of his body heat.

 _Husband,_ she repeated to herself again, not even fighting back the smile. How quickly she’d gotten used to calling him that.

As soon as she slid back into bed and under the covers, Tony turned around and wrapped his arms around her, groaning contentedly and enveloping her in his warmth. A rush of heat flooded her, not just from his body having been under the covers and thus, much warmer, but because of the familiar pull of desire.

It had been too long.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, being careful not to touch his bare skin with her hands while they were still cold, she tilted her head up to kiss him, starting with his chin, kissing the stubble there. Tony sucked in a breath at the contact, his attempt to feign sleep not fooling her in the slightest. She kissed him along his jawline, then down to his neck, sucking for a few moments at the sensitive skin there, smirking against his skin as he tensed again. “I know you’re awake,” she said softly, and suddenly his arms tightened around her and she found herself on her back, looking up and into his eyes.

“Yeah? Well I know you’re horny,” he replied, his tone somehow teasing and seductive at the same time. As if to illustrate his point, he grinded into her, causing her to groan as his hard-on pressed against her. Even through his pants, she could tell he was hard and ready for her.

“I think the same could be said for you,” she said, reaching between them with her hand and sliding underneath his waistband to grab him, noting with a raised eyebrow just how excited he actually was.

Rocking his hips against her hand, allowing her to stroke him, he met her gaze. “You’re up for it? You’re sure?” He’d been so patient as she’d healed after childbirth, and now she wanted nothing more than to _feel_ him again, warm and hot and hard.

“I’m sure,” she breathed, tightening her grasp around him and increasing her speed, running her thumb around the tip of his cock, delighting in the way he felt in her hand. Tony surged forward and kissed her hungrily, parting her lips with his own and diving in, taking her mouth roughly as she pumped him. With one hand, he reached down and pulled his pants down as far as he could reach, freeing himself from their confines and allowing Ziva better access. She merely growled into his mouth as she continued to work, loving the way he responded to her touch.

She rolled him to the side, still stroking him evenly as she did so, and allowed him to reach to her own pants to slide them off. She shivered again, not due to the cold this time, and let him wrap his hands around her waist to pull her closer to him, reveling in the way his warmth seemed to surround her.

Slowly, almost torturously so, Tony snaked his hands around to grab her ass, giving her a firm squeeze and causing her to groan against his skin, doing her best to muffle her sounds since the baby was sleeping not terribly far away. She could already feel the moisture pooling between her legs, and she arched toward him, reaching her hand around his waist to pull him closer, feeling his erection hot and hard against her stomach.

“Someone’s _very_ horny,” he commented, his eyes alight with mischief, and she reached between them to give his cock a hard squeeze, causing him to yelp in surprise.

“You have no room to talk,” she breathed against his lips, kissing him quickly before continuing, “and please keep your voice down, unless you want her to wake up before we finish what we started.”

He lifted one of her legs, pulling her thigh up and around his waist, giving him access to touch her, to reach out and _feel_ her. “Well, we certainly don’t want that, now do we?” he teased, leaning forward to suck at the hollow of her neck, causing her to squirm against him.

“Will you just shut up and touch me already?” she begged, her body quivering with need. The need to feel him, to have him again. It consumed her.

He chuckled softly, his voice a low rumble in her ear. Something about the way his voice lowered an octave when they were intimate did things to her, and she felt her core clench at the way his words seemed to reverberate through her entire being.

Not one to deny her anything, Tony reached between her legs, open and inviting to him, and began to stroke her there, teasing lightly through her slick folds noting with a smirk just how wet she was. God, it had been so long since he’d been able to touch her this way, and he delighted in the feel of her wet heat and the way she sighed and rocked toward him, desperate for his touch.

When he finally slid his finger into her, she couldn’t help the loud groan that slipped out, despite having warned Tony to be quiet. He looked at her pointedly, and she gasped, “I _know…_ it’s just… _fuck,_ you feel so good.”

“I love your filthy mouth in bed,” he growled, leaning forward to take her mouth with his own, slowly rubbing his fingers back and forth through her folds, growling into the kiss when she rutted her hips against his hand, craving more pressure.

She broke apart first, panting, breathless, and grabbed his neck, angling his face toward her so she could meet his gaze. “That feels incredible,” she breathed, loving the way he fucked her with his hand, “but I don’t want that right now. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve had you inside me and I just need you to fuck me. _Now.”_

Far be it for him to argue with that. “Well if you insist,” he breathed, pulling his hand out of her, noting how she groaned with the loss of contact. His hand was replaced quickly with the head of his dick, hard and thick and pressing teasingly against her. He ran himself through her folds a couple of times, watching as she gasped and arched toward him, then he lined himself up, feeling himself already starting to slip into her, her slick heat welcoming him without hesitation, and he slowly slid all the way into her, eliciting twin groans of pleasure, followed by both of them telling the other, “Shh!” as they glanced over at the crib where their daughter still lay, deeply asleep.

Ziva was the first to start laughing, and soon Tony joined in, each chuckle causing him to pulse slightly inside her, only increasing the pressure. “We have to be quiet,” she said, sobering up as she reached for his ass, digging her nails there, and he nodded against her, swallowing the grunt he desperately wanted to utter.

“Start slow,” she instructed, and she allowed him to set their pace as he thrust against her, withdrawing slowly and letting her feel every last inch of him before sliding back down quickly, causing her to bite her lip to keep from crying out. “I said _slow,”_ she admonished, and he merely smirked at her, leaning forward to kiss her before speaking.

“This _is_ slow,” he teased, pulling out of her again very slowly, rocking for a few seconds as just the tip of him filled her, before he surged forward again, causing her to arch her back, her mouth opening as she stopped herself just shy of crying out. _“Tony,”_ she breathed, her voice half-whisper, half moan. He was so unbelievably good and he felt so unbelievably perfect.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed, picking up the pace slightly, thrusting more evenly than before, his hips rolling as he grinded them into her, sliding in and out of her slick heat. “Better than I remembered.”

“You feel amazing, too,” she breathed, threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as she tilted her head up to kiss him, feeling the heat between them building. It wouldn’t be long, not after so long apart, and she felt herself climbing steadily toward her release, coiled up so tightly she felt almost – for the moment – as she would burst.

“Oh, _Tony,”_ she breathed, her breath hitching as she spoke. He had picked up the pace even further, and she rocked her hips toward him, craving that contact with all her being. Every thrust seemed deeper, harder than the last, and it was all she could do not to scream as he rode her, his hips bucking toward her as he chased his own release.

“You close, babe?” he grunted, his breath coming out in quick pants as he worked them both into a frenzy. He was sweating, his face knotted with concentration, and she knew he was close.

 _“So_ close, just keep going Tony, keep _fucking_ me, just like that,” she begged, and he did, rolling his hips expertly against hers, feeling the way she clung to him desperately, knowing she was right on the edge. She was wound up so tight, and when he reached between them to rub at her clit, giving just the right pressure, she fell almost immediately, her insides spasming around him and her limbs beginning to tremble. She bit her lip again to keep from crying out, but immediately opened her mouth again, groaning loudly as she came, pulling him along with her as they both found respite in each other.

A few more short, slow, thrusts and he was spent, groaning as he came inside her, his forehead pressed against hers. “I guess we forgot about quiet,” he breathed, and Ziva began to laugh, her sensitive core aching around his semi-erect cock, still pulsing with the aftershocks of his release.

“I just can’t help it, when I’m with you,” she breathed, and he kissed her hungrily, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Surely, they wouldn’t have long before the baby awoke again, but they could enjoy the warmth of each other’s bodies for a little while longer, keeping within their cocoon of bliss.

* * *

The phone on his desk was at the third ring before he reached it, as he’d been greeting his assistant. Usually, all calls went through her before even hitting his desk, so he glanced at her for a moment before walking into his office to answer it. Only a handful of people had this number, and it usually signaled some sort of emergency when the phone rang without Nadia having screened it first. When he picked it up with a cursory “Director Vance,” he nodded toward Nadia to shut the door, certain that whoever it was would not want the eyes and ears of his assistant.

“Director Vance,” the accented voice repeated, his words spoken carefully and crisply. Leon sat down at his desk slowly, wondering just who this was, as he didn’t recognize the voice.

“Who are you? How did you get this number?” He noted the time on the phone’s LCD display, writing it down on a sticky note so they’d be able to pull the recording of it if necessary. Suspicious phone calls always had a protocol, even if it was just an errant salesperson who had somehow gotten the number by mistake. Somehow, Leon didn’t think that this phone call was a mistaken telemarketer.

“Ahh, straight to the point. I think I shall like speaking with you, Director Vance. I am Rafi Aman. I suspect you have heard of me, yes?”

Vance said nothing, reaching for his cell phone and unlocking it so he could send a text message. If this was truly Rafi Aman, the mastermind of Widow, then he would need to get a trace on this line immediately without arousing suspicion.

“Do not bother tracing this line, if that is what you are thinking. This is a burn phone, and it will lead you absolutely nowhere. Surely you must not think I would be so careless as to call you from my personal phone? From my base of operations?”

Again, Vance didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. “I have been in contact with your agents. McGee and… Gibbs? They seem nice. Strong, loyal men. The type I generally prefer to work with. However, I do not think they have been very willing to cooperate with me. You see, I am in… you may call it a bit of a bind, do you understand?”

“I understand that you have no business reaching out to anyone at this agency at all. You are aware that the American government, including all government-run agencies, does not negotiate with terrorists?” He sounded calm on the outside, but his heart was pounding with adrenaline as he spoke. How the leader of a terrorist cell had gotten his direct number was beyond him.

“Am I a terrorist? Here I thought I was just someone with morals and ideals.”

“Which you’re trying to push on others through intimidation and violence. Pretty much the textbook definition of a terrorist,” Vance answered coolly. He would not let this asshole intimidate him.

The man on the other end of the line chuckled almost wistfully. If he was putting on an act, it was a damn good one. “It is a shame that you see me this way, Director Vance. I was thinking you might have been able to help me.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

“Oh, I suspect we want similar things, Director Vance.” Leon cringed at the way Aman said his name, and the way that he kept repeating it. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“I strongly doubt that, Mr. Aman.” There was nothing that this terrorist would want that would match his own needs and desires in any way. This man and his need for bloodlust had ideals so completely counter to his own that he almost laughed at the audacity of the man on the other end of the line. Was he _serious?_

“No? You wish to find Ziva David and her partner, Anthony DiNozzo, do you not? That is what I also wish.”

“Your reasons for finding them are far from noble, judging by the way they cleared out as soon as they realized you were after them.” He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, but it wasn’t like it was a secret. Tony and Ziva had only left because they knew that a group of terrorists were after them, and having nowhere to turn – including NCIS, which would have protected them both if they hadn’t resigned barely days prior – meant that they had to clear out.

“You seem very sure about this. Tell me, did they contact you before they left? Did they ask you for help? You seem very certain that they left immediately, which tells me that you must have information for me.”

“I have no such thing, _terrorist,”_ he hissed, his frustration growing. His phone blinked at him – mercifully, he’d remembered to set it to silent – and he checked the incoming message from McGee, which confirmed what Aman had said. It was a burner phone, and there was no means of retrieving the signal as he’d used some sort of scrambling device.

“You’re suddenly quiet, Director Vance,” the man observed from the other end of the line. “Receive word that you could not trace my call? I told you as much. Now, where were we?” He paused, though he clearly was not waiting for Vance to answer. “Ah, yes. You were going to tell me how I can find Ziva David.”

“You say this as if I know where she is, which I don’t. You also act like I’d tell you anyway. I can assure you – that will not happen,” Vance said through gritted teeth. He was struggling to maintain his cool throughout this conversation, and more than anything, he just wanted to find these terrorist bastards and eliminate them. Preferably with a few well-placed and very lethal gunshot wounds.

“You must know _something_ , Director Vance. She was your agent, she and this DiNozzo. Surely there is something you must know that can lead me to her. Some sort of training you would be familiar with,” the terrorist goaded, sounding oddly smug. Vance cursed himself for losing his bearings, even momentarily.

“I didn’t train either of them, and even if I did, I’ve already told you no.”

“Look at your agency, Director Vance. Look at how smoothly it runs without them. Do you really _need_ either of them back? Would it really make a difference if they were gone? You’re already quite used to not having them around by this point, hmm?” Again, the man paused for a second even though he clearly did not want an answer. “Why, they’ve been gone well over a year now. Surely NCIS has not crumbled in their absence.”

This terrorist had some kind of nerve, if he was suggesting that simply because the agency was still functioning without two of its agents that their lives should automatically be forfeit. “That doesn’t mean I want either of them to die at your hands,” he said, trying not to sound like he was seething, though he most definitely was.

“No worries, Director Vance, because you will have little choice in that matter. Now, I’m going to lay this out for you, plain and simple. You will assist us in finding your wayward little agents, and when you do, my men and I will allow your pathetic little agency and everyone associated with it to live. Do we have a deal?”

“I have already told you that we do not negotiate with terrorists.”

“Well that’s a shame. I suppose I shall have to take matters into my own hands then. I hope Ziva David and Anthony DiNozzo really are that important to you, because when I’m through with you, they’ll be the only two agents you have left. And right before I kill them, I’ll be certain to kill you and burn your agency to the ground.”

“You’ve just threatened the director of a federal agency on a recorded line. If you wanted to provoke me, then congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Mark my words, we’ll find you before you find my people, and you’ll be the only ones to die.”

“I look forward to seeing you try, Director Vance.” Rafi Aman sounded so smug that Leon could practically see his malicious smile through the phone, and the line went dead before Vance could utter another word.

“Nadia?” he said, pressing the button to summon his assistant. “Get everyone to MTAC, _now_. We have a situation.”

* * *

“I thought you said your hands were tied,” Gibbs grumbled as he followed Director Vance into his office, closing the door behind them. Vance had just announced that they would be officially re-opening the case file on Widow based on the threat they’d received from them less than an hour ago. All of the members of Gibbs’ team had sat in stunned silence as they listened to the recording, jotting down every detail they could. Abby would listen to the phone call in her lab and would work on dissecting any of the sounds that came along with it, while the remaining team members would be busy transcribing the text of it and going over every last word in an attempt to determine any hidden meaning behind them.

They’d already begun, and Gibbs had followed the Director up to his office, needing to pick a bone with him before he started working on the investigation himself.

Vance nodded, crossing to his desk and taking a seat at the edge of it, meeting Gibbs’ cold stare. “They _were_ tied, by SECNAV. Right up until this terrorist group made a threat against my agency.”

Gibbs was fuming. All this time had passed now since David and DiNozzo had gone off-grid. All this time that McGee and Abby had been working themselves silly just to get a tiny lead. Mossad had been read in. Hell, even Thompson and Pruitt were heavily involved at this point. And only now did Leon see fit to open up an official investigation? “So when it’s your agency, that’s when you get involved, and not just your people?”

“Watch it, Agent Gibbs,” he warned. “Former Agents DiNozzo and David were my people last year, but they stopped _being_ my people when they placed their badges on my desk. What would you have me do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Leon,” Gibbs started, not even trying to hide the sarcasm as he expressed his aggravation at his boss. “Not ignore me when I tell you they’ve been after us for a while now?” The Director stood back up, taken aback by his words. 

“You really might want to watch yourself, Agent Gibbs. You’re not in a position to criticize me right now,” Vance warned. “Or did you forget that I have allowed you and Agent McGee, and even Miss Sciuto, to use company resources in order to locate your missing people? You should remember that I did not have to do that. David and DiNozzo are no longer affiliated with this agency and it could open me up to a whole shitload of liability if it got out that we were spending our resources looking for a couple of former field Agents who may have just wanted to disappear and elope somewhere.”

Gibbs tightened his fists at his sides but made no other movement, exercising every last bit of his restraint. “You know goddamn well that’s not why they left, Leon.”

“I know it and you know it, but the people breathing down my neck don’t know it. David and DiNozzo were partners, _close_ partners, and anyone in this building could see that. Any of my higher ups could interview anyone in this building who knew them and come to the conclusion that the two of them left for their own purposes.”

“We have evidence of a credible threat,” Gibbs sighed, rolling his eyes.

“And I’m telling you that since this threat was leveled against two individuals who were, as of the fourteenth of May 2013, no longer affiliated with this agency, there isn’t a damn thing SECNAV would have allowed me to do for them. Now that they’ve threatened _us,_ we now have a vested interest in finding David and DiNozzo and taking out this terrorist cell.”

Gibbs said nothing, glaring at the Director. He hadn’t been kidding once upon a time when he’d said he didn’t want to sit in the Director’s chair. There was too much goddamn red tape. Liability this, and paperwork that. Being unable to help two people his team cared about greatly simply because some distant government official, one who probably spent more time playing golf than actually working, said not to had to be the biggest load of bullshit he’d ever encountered.

The last time he’d felt this powerless had been after he’d lost Shannon and Kelly, and he’d joined this agency precisely so he wouldn’t feel that way again. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the Director, but he still wouldn’t budge. “Don’t look at me like that, Agent Gibbs. You know it’s the truth.”

“No credible threat until now? Leon, they blew up McGee’s car!”

Vance unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, motioning for Gibbs to take a seat across from him. He didn’t. “You and I both know that we can’t connect Widow to that.”

“They sent a threatening note to McGee requesting to meet, and then when he didn’t show for the meeting they scheduled, they blew up his car three hours later. Hell, they almost blew up _McGee._ It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“You think I don’t know that, Agent Gibbs?” Director Vance shook his head in disbelief. He knew damn well who had blown up McGee’s car, but he also knew that without Widow stepping forward to take responsibility for it, none of the evidence they had from the explosion pointed anywhere near them. “I know that, and I know you know that I know it. You also know that you have nothing concrete tying them to that. Everything we have is circumstantial. And I can’t take your disbelief in coincidences and your gut feelings to SECNAV _or_ a jury, no matter how much we both know who put that bomb there.”

Gibbs sighed, wiping his brow with the palm of his hand. This case was exhausting. The government bureaucracy was exhausting. Worrying about Tony and Ziva was exhausting. Vance was exhausting. “You’re a right ass sometimes, you know that?” He said gruffly, his brow still furrowed in annoyance. Vance only smiled.

“And you know that my ass is right, or you wouldn’t be calling me that.” Gibbs didn’t respond, so the Director continued. “Now. I want you to find out everything you can about this Rafi Aman fellow. Mossad knows him, so reach out to them. Find out information on his lackeys, if you can.”

“I know how to investigate, you know,” was the response, with a roll of the eyes, though this time, Gibbs at least managed to crack a smile.

“Then go investigate.” Gibbs knew better than to respond, as he was being dismissed, and this time, he felt no use in arguing. Now more than ever, he needed to do his job, and his job at this exact moment was to find Tony and Ziva and bring them home alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I think one thing we can all appreciate is that government bureaucracy is ridiculously inept at times, and this is one of those moments where I really wanted Gibbs' frustration to shine through. 
> 
> Look for Chapter 17 on Tuesday.


	17. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva worries about Tony when he hasn't returned from a hunting trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter contains smut.

Darkness was looming, and Tony still had not returned from the hunt he’d gone on this morning. Ziva had never expected to become the type of woman to worry, but he’d been gone for such a long time and she wasn’t sure whether she should go look for him or await his return.

She couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something bad had happened to him, and despite the bravado she’d displayed almost her entire life, she actually found that she was afraid of what would happen if she were forced to remain here alone – with Tali, of course, but without him.

He had grown so important to her.

“Okay, Tali baby, we need to go out and find Dada, okay?” Tali, who had only recently begun to fall into a regular sleep schedule, merely gurgled at her mother, unaware of the anxiety Ziva felt closing in.

Ziva found the sling and settled Tali against her chest, then located the bow and arrow that Tony had left behind. Of course he had taken the crossbow when he’d gone out. She was grateful, at least, that he’d had the foresight to take the weapon that he was much better suited to. He really liked to practice with the bow, so that he would become better at it, but at least he wasn’t taking it with him when he might actually need his better weapon.

Once she stepped outside the cabin, she realized that she was at a loss as to where he might have gone. The forest was huge and loomed in every direction, and Tony could be anywhere. Her heart began to pound with the realization that she might not find him. Silently, she said a prayer to any deity that was listening, and set out along the stream.

Tony was not as skilled at navigation as she was, and he would most likely rely on the stream to find his way back home. That narrowed down her choices significantly, but there was still the possibility that she might go in the opposite direction than he had. Briefly, she stopped and looked both up and downstream, looking for any sign of disturbance in the brush, but found none, and she took a deep breath and turned downstream, hoping that her gut feeling would be right and that it would lead her right to him. Tony always seemed to prefer heading downstream, so that was where she would look.

Not for the first time, she was thankful for just how well she knew him.

Tali fussed in the sling and Ziva offered the baby her breast, hoping that she would suckle her way back to contentment. She couldn’t very well leave the baby behind, but she didn’t want to waste precious daylight stopping to feed her. If something had happened to Tony, she had to reach him before nightfall. Luckily, the baby was content to feed while Ziva kept moving, and she pressed onward, hoping that she would locate the man she’d grown to love so dearly.

It wasn’t long before Tali was done eating and fell asleep contentedly. Because the baby was on a schedule, Ziva knew she’d have a few hours before she would need to worry about her waking again, which would serve her well as she continued on her trek to locate Tony. She kept an arrow out and at the low ready just in case, but there was no sign of life, Tony’s or otherwise.

“Damn it, Tony, where are you?” She couldn’t keep herself from muttering in frustration. Glancing down at Tali to ensure she hadn’t awoken, Ziva pushed a hanging branch out of her way as she continued along the stream.

The water trickling to her left would normally be a calming influence, but her heart was racing as she quickly moved through the forest. She knew that to panic would be to die, and she couldn’t let herself get too emotional if she wanted to find him. She needed to stay rational. This was nothing but a search mission, one she had done hundreds of times.

She debated calling out to him, but would he hear? Or would it just make her own position more vulnerable? Not to mention waking the baby. Every time she’d ever gone on a search mission in the past, they’d had communication, heat-vision imaging, GPS, and all of the latest technology. All Ziva had to aid her was the stream that would lead her back to the house as well as the bow and the quiver of arrows she had strapped to her back.

She had also never gone on a search mission with a baby strapped to her chest, but this mission was bringing in all sorts of firsts for her.

Scanning the forest for anything that appeared out of the ordinary, Ziva pressed onward, saying another silent prayer that she would find him, and _soon._ She didn’t even know if this was the direction he had headed, and she made a promise that the next time _either_ of them set out for any reason, the one who remained at the cabin would see them off so they’d know which direction to look if anything went awry. _I cannot believe I did not think of that sooner._ Ziva kicked herself for allowing Tony to go off alone without even knowing where he was heading, but she’d been so preoccupied with the baby that she hadn’t even thought about it.

Lately, she’d been a mother first and all other things second. In normal circumstances, that wouldn’t likely be a problem, but in these circumstances, she’d created unnecessary danger for all three of them. “Dammit,” she whispered under her breath, feeling frustration rising alongside her worry, but continued moving forward in the hopes that she would find Tony before it got dark out.

At least if it did, she’d be able to make her way back home by following the stream, but Tony would be left to predators. She _had_ to find him. Now she knew his urgency when he’d come for her so many other times. She vowed to tell him that he was forgiven for all of the times he hadn’t left her alone; all the times he’d gone off in search of her without her knowledge or desire for it. He’d simply _had_ to find her, and he’d done so.

Now it was her time to return the favor.

She spoke, not loudly enough to wake the baby, but loud enough that if he were near, she might find him. “Tony.” Visibility would soon become poor, and she needed to find him.

Ziva stopped for a moment and scanned the forest, more thoroughly this time than she had the last time. Almost all of their clothing was light in color and would stand out against the greens and browns of the forest. The one thing they hadn’t brought was camouflage, which was turning out to be a good thing. Something caught her attention approximately 200 meters out. It might be nothing, but her heart pounded in her chest as she realized she had to check it out, whatever it was.

 _It might be nothing_ , she repeated to herself. Still, she was hopeful that it might be what she was looking for, considering Tony rarely ventured too far out from their house when he went out hunting.

She marked her path, then made her way over to the area where she saw what had stood out. As she approached, the brush became thicker, and she had to step very carefully to avoid tripping over her feet. If this was the way Tony had gone, then it would not surprise her to find out that he had fallen. _Why_ would he go this way?

The brush began to clear somewhat and she saw him, lying prone, his weapon strapped to his back. He was propped up on his elbows and he had apparently been attempting to crawl his way back. “Tony,” she gasped, tears streaming down her face as relief flooded her. He turned to look at her, his shoulders slumping as he, too, seemed to become overwhelmed with relief.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said, his voice obviously straining, as he’d been attempting to get back now for quite a while. He sat up, as best as he could, obviously favoring one leg.

She crouched down, wanting to reach out and touch him, feeling so unbelievably glad that she’d found him alive. “What happened?”

“Well, I was walking through that area over there, where you came from. I thought I’d seen something, so I wanted to head this way and see if I could get it. Not sure what, exactly, maybe a cougar or something.” He paused, shrugging sheepishly, then looked behind him as he continued speaking. “I followed it into this clearing here, and then even further that way, where the brush gets even thicker. I guess I was too focused on keeping my eyes out for the animal _,_ that I wasn’t watching where I was walking, and then next thing I knew, I was tripping over a root or a vine. All I know is I landed awkwardly, and now I can’t seem to stand back up.”

He could have been lying here for _hours._ “How long ago was this?”

“Hell, I don’t even know, Ziva. It was a while ago. Hours, maybe? I’ve been in so much pain, trying to crawl my way back, but it’s been hard, especially through all that brush. I was just trying to get to a clearing, and I was hoping you’d be over this way. I didn’t know if you’d know where I went.”

“I didn’t,” she said, her lips pursed together as she mentally chided herself for the second time. “I was just lucky. I knew you preferred heading downstream, and that you were not likely to stray too far from the stream.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” he responded, wincing in pain as he attempted to move his leg again. “Got any ideas for how to get me back to the house?”

“We’re going to have to set your leg,” was all she said, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“It’s not broken. At least, I don’t think it is.”

“It does not appear to be, which means that with help, you may be able to hobble back. But I will not be able to help you too much, because of the baby.”

“And you couldn’t just leave her,” he said, and she knew that it wasn’t a question. He agreed with Ziva wholeheartedly on that point, without even conferring with her first.

She didn’t respond to that. Even though there weren’t any other people, any signs of civilization close by, that didn’t mean that she could just leave Tali alone. There were the simple things to consider, like what would happen if she were hungry, or if she needed changed, but they also had to concern themselves with predators. Their door latched fairly well, but it wasn’t worth taking the chance of leaving her behind. Ziva would never forgive herself if something happened to Tali while she’d gone out looking for Tony, but she’d also never have forgiven herself if she hadn’t been able to find Tony.

She shook her head, coming back to the moment. “Can you stand?”

“I couldn’t before, no,” he responded, and she sighed, unsure what to do. Even though she knew how to find Tony now, she still wouldn’t take Tali home and leave her there long enough to come back for her husband, even if she was only gone for ten minutes.

“Okay, then let’s try something else,” she said, reaching for her pants and tearing them at the knee. “Which foot is it?”

“My left foot,” he replied, and she took a look at it. It was swollen, and it would probably have a pretty nasty bruise at some point, but it upon closer inspection, it didn’t appear to be broken, which was good news.

“Okay, I’m going to wrap it with this. It’s not the best wrapping, but it’ll have to do. I have a bandage back at the house, but I didn’t think to bring it with me when I came looking for you, and I don’t want to leave you alone again. So we will improvise.”

Sinking down again, she lifted his leg gingerly, doing her best not to cause him pain, though he sucked in a breath at the movement of the leg which had probably been immobile for quite a few hours now. She began to wrap the foot as best as she could, knowing that she would have to do this again when they got back.

“Can you try to stand now? With my help?” When he didn’t answer, she straightened up, reaching her hand down to him. “Brace yourself against me. I will not let you fall.”

Tony did as he was told, but he swore loudly as he lifted the dead foot, which had obviously protested the movement. “Okay, now keep your arm around me. We will have to walk slowly, and you’ll have to use me as your crutch.”

“Will you be okay? Will Tali? I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

“We will both be fine, Tony, and I am more worried about getting you back to the house before it gets dark.”

He said nothing, and she wrapped her arm tightly around his waist, feeling him brace his hand on her shoulder as she stepped forward, causing him to hop onto his right foot. His knee twinged in pain as he landed, but he didn’t really have much choice but to ignore it, knowing that he was going to need to simply endure it until he could get back to the house and get some cold water on it and keep it elevated.

It was only a few more hops before he was completely exhausted. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he panted, his face wet with sweat, the exertion causing him to breathe heavily.

“I know,” she agreed, leading him to a tree that he could lean on. “Stay here for a minute, okay? I have an idea.” He nodded, holding onto the tree for balance. As long as he didn’t put any weight on the injured foot, he felt fine, but every time he hopped around and it bounced around, everything hurt all over again. His right knee was certainly in no shape for this, but crawling around the forest wasn’t doing him any good, either.

Ziva was back quicker than he’d anticipated, and what he saw as she arrived made him grin, despite the pain. The forest was home to some absolutely enormous plants, and she’d found a rather large, thick leaf, something that almost looked like it came out of a cartoon. “Is that thing for real?” he asked, the amusement in his voice evident, but Ziva just shrugged, reaching for him and helping him sit down on the leaf as comfortably as possible.

“Just try to keep your leg up – maybe cross it over your knee, like that,” she instructed, helping him arrange himself so that he could be seated on the leaf. The stem didn’t look like it was strong enough, but Ziva seemed determined to try anyway, and if it didn’t work, he was certain that Ziva would find another solution.

“Do you want me to take Tali? So she doesn’t get in your way?” Ziva thought about that for a moment and then nodded, unstrapping the baby from the sling and handing her to Tony. She then took the weapon off his back and strapped it to her own. Tali was still asleep, but she stirred momentarily despite having been moved gently from her mother to her father. Tony cradled her in his lap, watching her sleep, but was jolted from his reverie when he felt himself jerk forward. Ziva had begun the task of pulling him home, but the stem had broken.

Not to be deterred, Ziva crouched down and gathered the leaf by its edges, pulling him along like the leaf was a tarp. Surprisingly, the leaf was a lot sturdier than it looked, and although their progress was slow, Tony was pleased with how easily Ziva managed to pull him along. It would be hell when they returned to the house and he would have to begin walking again, but Ziva had said that she’d brought a bandage along, so he supposed that his mobility situation might improve once they returned to the house.

The ride was a bit bumpy though, and soon enough, Tali began to fret. Tony watched as she scrunched up her face, obviously fighting against wakefulness, but hoped that he could soothe her back to sleep. “Shhh,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips lightly against her forehead. “It’s okay, baby girl, Daddy’s got you,” he said quietly, rocking her gently against his chest. It seemed to work for all of a millisecond, then Tali made another noise indicative of her desire to wake up. Tony had no idea how much further they had to go before they made it back to the house, but he suspected that they would need to stop before they got there and allow Ziva to feed the baby first.

Daylight was beginning to fade. He wondered if they should consider continuing, letting Tali wake up and fuss for a bit, thus making them an audio beacon for predators, or if they should stop, spending valuable daylight sitting still instead of pressing onward toward the house.

“Ziva?”

“We cannot be that far now, Tony, just try to keep her calm a little longer,” came the instruction, and he didn’t argue. He trusted Ziva’s navigational skills, and if she said that they were close, then he would take her word for it.

Tali, however, didn’t seem to be on board with this plan, and she let out a quick, loud wail, her lip quivering as she made her discomfort known. “I know, I know,” Tony whispered, pulling her against him, resting her head on his shoulder and rubbing her back lightly. “You want mama,” he said softly, trying to speak as calmly as possible. “She’ll be here in a minute, okay pumpkin?”

For all his cooing, Tali was not convinced, and she let out another ear-splitting cry, teardrops streaming from her eyes as she began to howl in earnest, fully awake and needing the comfort only Ziva could provide. Tony bounced her up and down, knowing that she generally liked that motion, but Tali was having none of it, and he began to feel his own heart rate rising as a response. He _hated_ hearing her cry.

“Ziva, can you get her in the sling?” Tony asked, and Ziva thought about it for a second. To stop and settle Tali against her would not take long – less than a minute, in fact – and Tali’s wailing would only grow even more insistent. They were not far, but it was still far enough that it would be much longer than the infant would want to wait in order to eat.

“Give her to me,” Ziva instructed, and Tony handed her over, noting as he did so that Ziva’s shirt was soaked – the crying of their daughter had caused her breasts to swell and leak, and Tony wondered if that, too, had been a factor in Ziva wanting to feed Tali. He sat there watching as Ziva secured Tali back in the sling, letting her take what she needed, before he spoke again.

“Is it painful, if she doesn’t eat?”

“No, but it is… it’s kind of a tightness,” she replied, unsure of how to explain it. Tali had calmed down and was whimpering as she ate, still recovering from her fit a few moments ago. Ziva caressed her daughter’s cheek, wiping away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks, and then bent down, reaching for the leaf again so she could continue dragging Tony along.

Tony was wondering if she’d be able to, now that Tali was there. “Is she in the way?” he asked, wondering what her solution would be if she _couldn’t_ pull him along while Tali had her meal.

“I think I can manage,” was the response, and soon Ziva was pulling him along, slightly slower this time, but it was probably all she could do without disrupting her balance now that she had the baby strapped to her. Tali continued suckling, oblivious to the world around her, and Tony watched in awe as his strong warrior woman did it all. She was a mother, a savior, and a force to be reckoned with, and he loved her fiercely. _And somehow,_ he thought to himself, _she loves me back._

It amazed him every time.

It was almost completely dark when Tony noted the cabin in front of them, and his shoulders slumped with relief. Ziva dragged him all the way to the door and inside the house, not willing to leave him alone outside for even a little while. He sat still on his makeshift sled, waiting for Ziva to get Tali changed and settled into her crib, and a few minutes later, she was crouching down in front of him, an ace bandage in her hand.

“How does it feel?” she asked, and he winced as she took her foot in her hand and propped it up on her knee, taking a look at it.

“It hurts,” was all he said, through gritted teeth. She merely nodded, unsurprised, and took the bandage and methodically wrapped him up, securing the end with a safety pin she’d kept affixed to the bandage.

“Safety pins stay better,” she explained when he looked at her quizzically, and he couldn’t argue with that. The clips that came with ace bandages _were_ pretty terrible. “Do you want to try to stand?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, huh?” he joked, and she stood up first, holding her hands out to him. Tony took her hands, using them to brace himself, and he struggled up to his good knee first, then tested weight on his bad leg, finding that the pain was still very much present but that he was able to support himself, albeit briefly. “That’s… it’s…” he sighed. He didn’t know how to explain himself.

“You’ll need to rest it, essentially,” she said, and she helped him toward the bed. “I know it’s not very late, Tony, but perhaps you should lie down and try to relax. I’ll fix us something to eat, and you can eat here in the bed instead of at the table. I will take the bandage off while you sleep, and then I will wrap it again when you are ready to get up. It will probably hurt worse in the morning, but I do not have any Advil or anything.”

“What about… well…” he trailed off, feeling the heat rushing to his face. Hell, they were married now, or close enough to it. “I have to pee,” he blurted, and Ziva only blinked, then shrugged.

“Then I’ll help you outside so you can handle that,” she simply said. There was no use getting squeamish about it.

Once that task was accomplished and Tony was up in the bed, his foot propped up on top of his old backpack, Ziva set about preparing something to eat. By the time she came back with the food, his foot was feeling a little less painful, and he was also feeling fairly sleepy. Ziva noticed, and she stepped outside, coming back into the house with a stick. “Before you sleep,” she began, holding it out for his perusal, “I thought perhaps you would need a cane. Tomorrow morning when you wake up, I’ll have this all ready for you, so you have something to lean on as your foot heals.”

Tony smiled gratefully, his eyes drooping as he leaned against the pillow. “I love you, Ziva,” he breathed drowsily, and she leaned down to kiss his forehead, noting as she did that he was warm. It wasn’t all that unusual for someone with an injury like his to feel feverish, but now she would have to watch him, and hope that he would feel better in the morning. As he drifted off to sleep, she wet a cloth and set it down on his head, hoping that it might ease his suffering just a little bit.

She watched him only for a few more moments before leaning down and kissing the top of his head, wrinkling her nose as his hairs tickled her there, and then set upon turning the stick she’d found into a passable cane.

* * *

Tony woke to the throbbing pain of his foot, wishing more than anything that he had some sort of painkiller to dull it enough so that he could sleep. Ziva had warned him that it would likely hurt like hell for the next few days, and it was certainly living up to _that._

Fighting to find a more comfortable position that didn’t require him to move his foot was proving to be impossible, and he’d given up, opting to attempt to drift back to sleep in the same uncomfortable position he’d woken up in, when he heard a sniff coming from what he had thought to be a sleeping Ziva. Her back was turned to him and he could barely make out her shoulders shaking in the darkness. Briefly, Tony considered what a marvel it was that his eyes had grown significantly better at seeing in the dark.

“Ziva? Honey? Are you okay?” he asked softly, careful not to wake up Tali as he reached to wrap his arm around her – best he could without turning and causing his foot additional pain.

He heard her sniffle again, watching as she reached a hand up to her face, presumably to wipe away tears that had fallen. When she only took a deep breath without answering him, he reached around and gently turned her to face him, noting even through the darkness that she looked positively wrecked, as though she’d been sobbing uncontrollably.

“Ziva?” he asked again, beginning to worry. Few things made Ziva cry like this, and his heart ached in his chest as he watched her slowly reach up to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Tony…” she breathed, but then began crying again, her tears wracking her body as she bent her head forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder and crying without restraint. There was no use keeping it quiet now, was there?

He reached for her chin and titled her face to meet his, gazing into her eyes, darkened with sorrow and filled with tears. “Hon?” he asked again, not wanting to press her, but something was obviously bothering her to make her cry like that. Ziva was not generally one to weep, and this was unsettling.

“What if …” she trailed off, sniffling and drawing an unsteady breath, “what if I hadn’t found you? What if I _had_ found you but you were …” she couldn’t bring herself to say it. God, she couldn’t even vocalize it, put the words to it, the entire thought too terrible to even contemplate, and yet, she couldn’t get it off her mind. “I can’t even say it,” she explained, when he didn’t answer right away.

“What if I was… dead?” he supplied, his stomach sinking at the word. Putting it out there, hearing it spoken filled him with a similar sense of dread, and he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t considered that Ziva wouldn’t find him, and what would happen if she hadn’t. How she would feel, how she and Tali would carry on without him.

He suddenly understood why Ziva was experiencing shortness of breath. “I… can’t,” was all she said, and he left it there, unspoken. _I can’t lose you._

“I can’t either,” was all he said in response, and he gathered her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him, his hurt foot be damned.

Finally, she began to talk, and everything came tumbling out at once. “I was beginning to worry about what we would do. How I would survive without you. How I would fight Widow. How I would explain to Tali what had happened. What would I do with your…” she trailed off again, unwilling to say it. She would, of course, have to handle his remains if he did die, but she’d rather not think about it. “I do not know when it happened, Tony, or how. Somehow, some way, I have become dependent on you. I cannot even begin to imagine my life – _our_ lives – without you. And I was terrified, just… terrified. I cannot do this alone.”

Tony knew just how hard it was for her to admit such a thing, especially considering the fact that she’d initially been willing to go off-grid without him. She looked up, meeting his gaze, her face still wet but the tears no longer falling, at least for the time being. “I need you.”

His foot protested in pain as he surged forward, brushing her hair behind her ear and kissing her hungrily, surprised at the way he felt at her admission, almost as though his need to love her, protect her, and above all, let her know that he wasn’t going anywhere exceeded all else, and perhaps in that moment, it did.

Just the feeling of her body pressed against his own lit that familiar spark of desire, feeling his body stirring to life as she responded eagerly, the movement of her lips matching his own in intensity. Groaning, he widened his jaw, deepening the kiss and pulling her even closer, her shirt riding up as her bare skin brushed against his chest. The warmth between them sent a surge of want trailing down his body, and he was hard for her almost instantly.

Thrusting forward with his hips, he grunted as he pulled their mouths apart, gasping as he spoke. “You feel that?” The husk in his voice was amplified by the breathlessness he felt at her proximity, and he continued, leaning forward and whispering the next words in her ears. “You feel how fucking horny I get for you?”

She cried out, almost forgetting herself and the fact that the baby was asleep as she arched forward, leaning her head back and grinding her hips toward his. He was indeed very noticeably horny, and she reached forward with her hand to cup him through the pants he wore. Tony hissed as she stroked him, and she stilled, as though remembering something important. “But your foot–”

He interrupted her, reaching for her hand and urging her forward, wordlessly begging her to continue stroking. “Oh, fuck my foot.”

She grinned devilishly at that. “I didn’t know you were into that, but if that’s what gets you going, who am I to–”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

Not one to disobey when the order was so eloquently given, she leaned forward and obliged his request, her hand leaving his erection to snake around his waist and pull him into her. She pressed her body tightly against his, lifting her leg to wrap around him and feeling him, hard and hot and pressing insistently against her core.

 _Fuck_ they were wearing too many clothes.

Almost as if he was reading her mind, Tony scooted back slightly so that he was able to slide off the bed, slipping his pants down his body, trying not to disturb his foot too much. At the same time, Ziva took off the shirt she’d gone to bed wearing, lifting the cover to allow him back into the bed, as the night had grown cool despite the heat between them.

As soon as he got back into the bed he was kissing her hungrily again, leaning over her and devouring her in his embrace. Ziva wrapped her arms around his back, digging into his skin with her nails, causing him to growl hungrily against her, a sound that settled between her legs where she felt almost fully consumed by want. She was still wearing panties, but she knew he could feel the moisture between her legs, knew that with every roll of his hips grinding into her that he was working himself into as much of a frenzy as he’d worked her into.

“Off,” he instructed, his fingers playing at the waistband of the panties, and despite little preamble, she was dripping with want and ready for him to take her and make her scream his name.

He helped her lift her hips up as she slid the underwear down off her legs, kicking them off the edge of the bed, and soon he was lying down atop her again, his hot, hard member rubbing teasingly through her folds as he continued to roll his hips, enjoying the tease of the slow grind. “Tony,” she breathed, reaching between their bodies to grab him but he jerked away last minute, wanting to prolong the tease just a little longer.

Her entire being clenched with need, and she gasped with each slow drag of his cock between her legs, arching her body toward his and begging for him to finally slide into her; to give her what she craved the most. _“Tony,”_ she begged again, arching her body at just the right to line him up with her heat, and he stilled for a moment, shuddering at how achingly fucking _good_ it felt to be even the slightest bit inside her.

“Please,” she begged, unable to believe the neediness of her own voice. No one had ever made her _need_ like this before, and she craved him with every fiber of her being. “Please fuck me,” she added, her voice breathless and panting as she rocked her hips slightly, just enough for a minuscule amount of friction but nowhere near the fulfillment that she craved.

Still, he hesitated, rocking his hips slightly, teasing at her entrance. Impatient, Ziva considered simply flipping him to his back and having him the way she wanted, but she feared hurting his foot. Instead, she reached for his neck, pulling him forward to kiss her, meeting his gaze afterward. It was dark but she could see perfectly: how much he desired her, how badly he needed her, and how much he loved her. “I need you,” she repeated finally, her words a whisper, and that was what caused him to surge forward, completing their connection in one swift thrust.

“I need you too,” he replied, his voice a hoarse whisper in her ear. Shivering at his words, she arched her neck back, gasping for breath as he began to move, rolling his hips slowly as he dragged his cock along the inside of her walls.

Groaning in frustration, she dug her nails into the skin of his arms, raising her hips up to meet him, attempting to set a faster pace. “I asked you to _fuck_ me,” she whined, struggling for leverage from this current position. “If it weren’t for your foot, I’d have… rolled you over to your back and… had my way with you by now,” she growled, her words slowing on each deep thrust inside of her. Despite her desire for a faster pace, she couldn’t deny how good he felt inside her. 

“I believe I told you ‘fuck my foot’,” he challenged, daring her to make her move.

That was all it took, and soon he found himself rolled to his back, her body pinned atop his, his cock still buried deep inside her as she began riding him at a much faster pace. His foot throbbed with pain initially, but soon Ziva’s rhythmic joining of their hips made him forget that he even _had_ a foot. _“Fuck,”_ he gasped, the word barely slipping from his mouth on a gasp, and Ziva squeezed her legs around him and rode him furiously, pressing down hard against his chest for leverage.

“You feel so… _fuck_ …” she whined, panting heavily as she sat atop him, rolling her hips against him, delighting in the way he gasped as she leaned her body backwards slightly, moving her arms to his legs behind her. When she began to move again, she reveled in the way he watched as her breasts bounced in the moonlight. From the way she was leaning, he couldn’t reach out and touch them, so he settled for grasping at her hips, anchoring her as she rocked against him furiously.

“Touch me,” she begged, and he wasted no time reaching his hand to the front of her sex, rubbing her clit in fast, circular movements that caused her to curse under her breath. She threw her hair back, its length tickling his legs as she rode him, and he felt his cock begin to tighten with the need to come.

“Ziva,” he warned, his voice cracking.

“I’m close, Tony,” she moaned, siting back up and leaning forward, her hair falling around them as she pressed her body against his, his arm trapped between them as he stroked her expertly and she continued thrusting herself onto him. She pressed wet kisses to the side of his neck, enjoying the moans he made at the contact, and he reached with his free hand to stroke at the side of her breast, now firmly pressed against his own chest. She pulled her head back just enough to meet his gaze, stilling for a moment before leaning in, kissing him hungrily, leaving him breathless. She pulled away just barely to whisper, “I wanna come while we’re kissing.”

Tony pulled her face down to his, letting his hands tangle in her unruly curls, kissing her hard and hungrily. They’d never done this before, but he was dying to know what it felt like to taste the sounds she made as she came. She began to rock her hips again and he met her thrusts eagerly, still stroking her clit between them as she fucked him, _hard_.

Ziva broke apart with a sudden gasp of his name, her legs quivering with the release that was soon to come. _“Tony,”_ she gasped again, and he pulled her face back to his, the pleasure overwhelming him as she groaned into his mouth, his tongue meeting hers in a furious dance as their hips moved in a staccato rhythm toward completion. He was clinging to her for dear life as she came, her voice a low, throaty groan that seemed to travel down his own body and settle right in his groin. Her legs trembled uncontrollably as the pleasure washed over her, sending her into that euphoric state of completion and pulling him along with her, pulsing on his cock and eliciting a growl as he came so forcefully that it almost hurt.

Desperate to cling to the moment a bit longer, Ziva slowed her movements, rocking her hips against him and dragging out the aftershocks of pleasure, reluctant to set his mouth free from her own. Groaning into his kiss again, she gave him one tight squeeze between her legs, sending him to shudder violently. It was only then that she pulled away, unable to stifle her giggles at the way he reacted to her teasing.

“You’re going to kill me,” he breathed, his throat dry and his forehead beaded with sweat. His foot was starting to hurt again, but it had been worth it, as far as he was concerned.

Settling down against him, her legs tangling with his as she slid to the side of him and placed her head to his chest, she gave him a slight squeeze. “Not for a long time,” she replied, and he kissed her forehead, running his fingers through her hair as she finally fell into a contented sleep, her worries about losing him finally alleviated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 18 on Saturday.


	18. Memories of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's foot is on the mend, but another storm hits and keeps them indoors for a while.

After about two weeks, it didn’t hurt to walk too much anymore, Tony noted, and he began to move about slowly without as much help from Ziva. He still kept his ankle firmly wrapped up, thankful – but not at all surprised – that Ziva had brought an ace bandage with them, though they hadn’t needed it until now.

“What else have you got in that bag of yours, Hermione?” he’d asked jokingly the next morning when she’d wrapped his foot to get them both started for the day.  

She’d smiled, catching the reference. She’d loved the Harry Potter films, much to Tony’s delight, and she’d gone out immediately after having watched the first one and purchased the books, reading them all over two weekends, joking with Tony about how the movies were good, but the books were better. “Not anything like a wand to heal that foot, unfortunately,” she’d joked, but at least she’d had enough sense to bring a bandage at all.

Now, however, he was walking much more freely, with only a slight limp. Ziva was relieved that he was healing so well. Had his leg been broken, she wasn’t sure that she’d have been able to fashion him a suitable cast, or even set it properly.

Tony’s injury had given her one more thing to worry about, and she didn’t want to think about all of the other things that might go wrong.

Still, he was resilient, and he refused to be kept down for long. “Think we can go for a short walk?” he asked as he tested the weight on his leg, pleased that it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

“Yes, I think we can manage that,” she mused, and Tali agreed, babbling something incoherent, causing Tony’s face to break into a smile as he met his daughter’s eyes, making silly faces and causing the infant to laugh. “Hold her for a minute,” she instructed, passing Tali over to him, and he continued to act silly while Ziva gathered the things they would need: the sling she used to carry Tali, her crossbow, and the bow and arrows. Tony was still insistent on practicing with the bow and arrows, and so she allowed him to take them this time. She placed everything down on the table, picking up the sling and tightening it around her body, reaching for Tali again and settling her inside. She cooed, snuggling up comfortably against her mother’s warm skin, and Ziva picked up the bow and arrows, handing them to Tony, smiling as he tightened the quiver around his body. He’d fashioned it out of the pouch their tent had come in.

They’d become so resourceful, and she smiled at his ingenuity. Tony had come up with many excellent solutions to problems, some she might not have thought of on her own. “Ready?” she asked, picking up the crossbow and tightening her own quiver of crossbow bolts around her shoulder in such a way that Tali would not impair her range of motion. She was getting so big already, but the sling was still the best method for carrying her.

“Let’s go,” he responded, and they made their way out of the house, walking slowly along the side of the stream.

They weren’t going out walking with the intent of hunting anything, but it was never wise to go out into the wilderness without a weapon, and whenever they went, Ziva had insisted that both of them be armed. Tony was careful with how he stepped, looking down at every opportunity, and after about five minutes of struggling on his own he picked up a stick from the ground and used it as a sort of cane, something he could lean on for additional balance. “I should have just brought the cane you made me,” he said sheepishly, and Ziva didn’t respond, though he could sense her agreement.

Tony followed Ziva, who had slowed her pace to accommodate him. Although he hadn’t asked her to slow down, she had known instinctively that she couldn’t go too fast with him still recovering from his injury. His foot didn’t hurt too badly, but he was sure that if he overdid it, he’d be up all night with a throbbing extremity. _Not_ the kind of throbbing extremity he preferred.

Ziva stopped suddenly and there, in front of them, about ten yards away, was an alligator. It hadn’t spotted them yet, but Ziva didn’t want it to. They were in no position to attempt to outrun it, not with Tali strapped to her chest and Tony still recovering from his sprained foot. She turned around, looking at him meaningfully, and he nodded, catching her intent.

Slowly, Ziva crept to the side, standing out of Tony’s way as he drew an arrow from his quiver. The alligator seemed oblivious to the fact that it was being hunted, and Ziva prayed that Tali would remain quiet. She was asleep, which was the only reason Ziva hadn’t chosen to take the shot herself. She was certain that with all the practice he’d had, Tony could handle himself, and she watched as he drew back the bow, took aim, and fired, the rapid release of the arrow making a swift _thawp_ noise as it flew forward, striking the alligator. It thrashed wildly, but Tony’s aim had been true, and soon, the gator stopped moving.

Drawing another arrow from the quiver, Tony stepped forward cautiously, just in case the gator wasn’t quite dead yet. If it was still alive, he’d be prepared with another arrow. As he approached, however, the gator didn’t move, and Tony confirmed that it was indeed dead. He nodded to Ziva, feeling his own heartbeat slow slightly, and she finally stepped forward, joining him as he inspected the carcass. Gator meat wasn’t exactly her favorite, but meat was meat, and they could use the hide for a lot of things.

“Nice shot, Katniss,” Ziva joked, and Tony stared at her, surprised.

“How do _you_ know who Katniss is?”

“I do not know why you are so surprised when I get your culture references, Tony. I have been in America for many years now, current time excluded, obviously. But I have read all of the books.”

“Oh, and here I was, thinking that you actually got a movie reference for a change.” She rolled her eyes, and he sighed exasperatedly, though both were done teasingly.

“If… _when_ … we get back, I will see the movie with you.”

“They’ve probably made it to the sequel by now,” he mused, but he couldn’t really be sure. It was growing less and less disconcerting to think about how they barely marked the passage of time anymore. It hardly made much difference, except when it came to Tali and her milestones. Even then, they didn’t make as much of a deal about them as they might have back in their old world.

Ziva looked down at Tali, noting that she was still fast asleep against her chest. With any luck, she wouldn’t wake until they returned to the house, which would make it much easier to handle getting the gator back. “Well we’ll go see that one, too,” she replied absently, looking down at the dead animal.

“I can probably manage it,” he offered, and she shook her head. His injury was still not fully healed, and she didn’t want to aggravate it.

She began to undo the sling that she kept the baby in. “Take Tali,” she said, and he walked toward her, carefully gathering her up in his arms and allowing Ziva to secure the sling around his neck and shoulder. Amazingly, Tali didn’t stir at all. The best part about the sling was that it had been fashioned in such a way that whoever was carrying her would be able to use both of their hands, so Tony was able to grab his bow in one hand and his walking stick in another, and he watched as Ziva bent down and picked up the gator, slinging it over her shoulders, then following her as she began the slow walk back to their house.

Tony broke the silence not much later, speaking quietly so that Tali wouldn’t wake but loud enough for Ziva to hear him over the stream. “I don’t really miss my movies that much anymore,” he admitted, almost shocked to hear that coming from his own mouth.

“Really? Are you sure you haven’t developed a fever to accompany that injured leg?”

He sighed, feigning offense. “I’m serious! I used to use movies as an escape. There was always something so great about watching fantastical things happening. Massively destructive action sequences, awesome special effects, and everything just ending up exactly right. It was the only way I knew how to cope when things weren’t going my way.” He paused, clearing his throat slightly before continuing. “I don’t need that kind of coping mechanism anymore.”

“You mean…”

“I don’t want to escape anything about this life.”

 _“You,_ the man who once bitched because there was the tiniest spot of mud on your _shoe,_ do not want to escape this? Now I am positive you have gone insane.” She had stopped, turning to face him, her expression incredulous as she listened to his words. She debated reaching out to his forehead and checking for a fever, but he didn’t look flushed. Had Tony really changed this much?

“It’s not about that, Ziva. It’s about you. And Tali. Call me sappy, but I don’t need to watch movies with perfect little happy endings anymore. I feel like I’ve actually got one.”

“Tony,” she gasped, leaning forward to kiss him, mindful of the fact that she was still carrying a dead alligator on her back. He was constantly amazing her with the things he would say, and although he had told her – several times – that he loved her, it never ceased to fill her heart with wonder.

They didn’t stay there for too long, however, because she was sure Tony’s foot was bothering him and she really did want to get back before she’d need to feed Tali again. She didn’t really want to do that with an alligator slung over her shoulders.

It wasn’t long before they arrived back at the house, and as though they’d planned it, Tali woke up and demanded a feeding. Ziva sat with her as she fed, cooing lovingly at her while Tony worked to carve up the gator, separating the skin from the meat and sorting it all to be stored away. He had become quite skilled with a knife, and it took him just about the same amount of time to field dress the animal as it had for Tali to feed, and soon, Ziva had Tali changed and set down in her basket to sleep. It was barely evening, but they could spend some time alone until Tali woke again for her final feeding before morning.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said as he sat down on a log beside her, watching with interest as she lifted her hair off the nape of her neck, closing her eyes as a breeze cooled off the area, wet with sweat after their afternoon excursion.

“I know you did,” was the response, and she smiled as she let her hair back down, rolling her shoulders to even out the day’s labor. The sun would be setting soon, and Ziva felt a slight pang of regret that they could never really see it through the trees, but they didn’t really need the beauty of a sunset, she supposed.

“I know that you already think of me as your husband, and that I already think of you as my wife. And we can’t really make it _official-_ official, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to give you. Something I’ve been working on.”

Ziva was intrigued, and she turned her head so that she could face him, noting the way the breeze whipped strands of hair off his face. “Oh?” she said, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was trying to say.

She watched as he reached into a pouch he’d tucked into his shirt, tied around his neck, and pulled out something small, palming it in his hand. When he finally unfolded his hand, there sat a tiny and perfectly round wooden ring, painstakingly carved out and sanded down so that it looked almost professionally made, and not merely made with limited tools in the woods.

Her jaw dropped as she reached to pick it up, noting how smooth it felt. He had managed to embed a small shining stone – not much of a gem, she mused, but then again, it wasn’t as though she needed them – into the band, and she noted that a couple of tiny hearts were carved all around it. “Tony, this is beautiful,” she breathed, taking it immediately and slipping it on her finger, admiring the way it fit. “And it fits perfectly.”

“I might have sized your finger a few times while you were out cold,” he grinned sheepishly, giving a slight shrug, and Ziva smiled bashfully in response. He had to be a miracle worker, that was the only explanation.

“I don’t know what to say,” she began, looking at the ring as she twirled it around her finger. “Thank you.”

“I feel like I have to ask. I mean, I never really got to, and I’ve really wanted to. So,” he began, sliding off the log and carefully kneeling beside her, taking her hand and sliding the ring off her finger, “Ziva, will you be my wife?”

Tears were streaming down her face as she nodded, her heart bursting with just how much she adored this man and everything he had given her. “Of course I will, Tony, I’ve been yours for as long as I can remember, and I’ll be yours until the end of our days.” At that, she took the ring back, snatching it away from him, intent on sliding it back on, but he took it again, looking at her pointedly.

“Please,” he begged, looking at her intently. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Well in that case…” she trailed off, shivering as he slid the ring back onto her finger, sealing their relationship in that moment as he leaned forward and kissed her hungrily, overwhelmed with the notion that Ziva would always be _his._

* * *

“Oh now, that looks rather ominous,” Tony remarked, looking up at the sky as he took a short break from gathering the supplies they’d need for what would surely be another couple of days stuck indoors from the weather.

The sky had turned a very dark shade of gray, and the wind was whipping the leaves in all directions. Ziva had learned as a child that when the backs of leaves were visible, rain was imminent, but she could practically smell it on the air – another big storm was coming, and this time, she and Tony would be ready for it.

“Fill up the water bottles and bring them inside,” she directed, ignoring his momentary distraction at the foreboding darkness of the sky. Tali was asleep for what would likely not be very long, and she wanted to get everything brought inside both before it started to rain and Tali woke up. If this storm was anything like the last one, it would be foolish to venture out while the storm raged except when absolutely necessary.

Ziva’s intuition had been correct, and soon the rain was falling down in sheets, heavy enough to soak through their clothes in moments. Lighting flashed through the sky as they ran inside, carrying the last of the items they’d gathered with them. Without thinking about it, they were both stripping from their clothes almost immediately, tossing their wet garments to the floor without so much as a word.

“Why, hello there,” Tony teased, wiggling his eyebrows goofily, and Ziva smirked despite herself. She was moments from stepping forward to wrap her arms around him and kiss him hungrily when a loud clap of thunder sounded, startling them both and waking Tali up, causing her to shriek, her voice piercing the air and shattering the moment.

“Maybe later,” Ziva said regretfully, quickly reaching for a dry piece of clothing and slipping it on before crossing to where Tali lay and scooping her up.

It wasn’t long before Tali was fed and changed, and despite the storm-induced darkness, alleviated only by the fact that it wasn’t yet evening, Tali was wide awake, and she lay in Ziva’s arms as both she and Tony cooed at her. Tali would catch one of their eyes and grin, a toothy smile that was often accompanied by the gurgling sound of her babyish laughter. She was a happy baby, not prone to fits and inconsolability, and both Tony and Ziva had found it easy to care for her, despite the lack of sleep of the first few months.

Tony reached his hands out, allowing Tali to grasp onto his thumbs, and he pulled her up, allowing the baby to sit upright. Tali wasn’t quite at the point where she could sit up without support, but Tony liked to get her sitting so she’d know the position and eventually work her way into that on her own. Ziva shifted, and soon Tali was sitting upright, her back leaning on her mother’s stomach for support as she faced her father.

Tony played peek-a-boo with her, and Ziva smiled lovingly at his goofy faces whenever he finally uncovered his face. Tali was loving it, peals of laughter echoing throughout the cabin, and though the rain continued to assault the exterior with its relentless onslaught, the interior of the cabin was bathed in love.

“You’re a good father, Tony,” Ziva said as she watched the way he interacted with Tali. As long as they’d been partners, he’d always had a difficult time relating to kids, but now that he had his own, he was a natural. It was as if someone flipped a switch somewhere. The difference was astounding, at times.

“I am?” He was stunned by the compliment. He didn’t feel like he was doing anything extraordinary. He just loved his little girl.

“She adores you,” was all Ziva said, and his heart swelled at the realization that she was right.

“That’s right, Tali,” he said, switching immediately to baby talk as he leaned forward, presumably to press his forehead to her smaller one. “I _adore_ you, isn’t that right?” When he finally managed to tap his forehead to hers, he shook his head really quickly, causing the baby to squirm and laugh in delight, cooing out incoherent sounds as she reached for Tony’s ears and tugged lightly. She didn’t have the strength of her mother – yet – but he praised her all the same as he reached for her, pulling her away from where she’d been sitting and in for a hug. Tali wrapped her small arms around him as best as she could, and he patted her back.

Ziva watched with amusement as he twirled her around the room, careful to watch where he was going, lest he trip over something and send them both tumbling to the ground. Tali, for her part, was delighted in this first father-daughter dance, and she looked around the room wide-eyed, cooing happily.

A wistful smile played across Ziva’s face as she remembered the first – and only – dance she and Tony had shared, and how close they’d finally come to almost stepping into whatever it has been between them. She still remembered the way she felt in his arms, as though she was the only woman that mattered. He had pulled her close and gazed into her eyes and she’d felt so overwhelmed by emotion that she’d almost forgotten that they had been in Berlin on a mission and not on vacation.

It had been so difficult at times like that to keep the lines between them from blurring.

Tali’s eyes were finally drooping against her father’s shoulder, and Ziva reached for her to give her another quick feeding before putting her down for the night. It had been dark for quite some time now, and the storm outside showed no signs of stopping.

Once Tali was settled, snug in her tiny bed with her eyes firmly closed as she slept, Ziva sat back down beside Tony on the bed, adjusting the shirt she’d had to lift up in order to feed her. “You’re a good mother, too,” Tony said suddenly, looking at her earnestly, and she froze, meeting his gaze and feeling, for the moment, incredibly vulnerable.

“I am just doing what I am supposed to do, Tony, that does not make me–”

“Don’t you dare try to act like you’re not, Ziva.” Lighting lit up the sky then and his eyes flashed, a momentary spark of anger crossing his face. She’d been wonderful with Tali from the very first day, hell, even before she’d been born, her inability to fully let go of her ninja tendencies notwithstanding.

“I am just trying to do what I remember seeing my mother do when my sister was a baby,” she responded after a time, waving her hand in the air to mask the fact that she was growing sad at the memory of both her mother and her baby sister.

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Ziva smiled, scooting closer to him and letting him wrap his arm around her, drawing her close. “The memories are so faint,” she replied, not really answering his question, but letting herself get swept up in the past regardless. “I was only five when Tali was born. But I remember my mom singing to her in the late evenings. So many nights of my life I fell asleep listening to the sound of her voice. Her singing was meant for Tali, but it soothed me, too. Even when I was the ‘big girl’ and I wasn’t supposed to need soothing.”

Tony didn’t respond immediately, listening closely to her account of her early childhood. The silence hung in the air between them until she spoke again, more softly. “I remember feeling like being a ‘big girl’ was so important, and I took the responsibility seriously. I wanted to set an example for Tali,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I had no idea that as a baby, she wasn’t able to learn or remember anything from my example.”

“I bet you were a great big sister,” Tony supplied, giving her a slight squeeze. The wind was howling outside and the rain seemed to be picking up its pace, if possible, and she shivered against him.

“I always protected her from everything. Ari was so much older than she was, and he didn’t seem to be the least bit interested in a baby.”

“How old was he?”

Ziva appeared lost in thought for the moment, trying to remember exactly. “He was ten when she was born, and turned eleven about a month later. He also didn’t live with us all the time until his mother died, so he came to stay with us for the summer and there was a baby in the house that wasn’t there before. He made himself especially scarce that summer,” she smiled, remembering the way he had avoided having anything to do with his youngest sister.

“I remember one time, my mother asked him to hold her. His face went almost completely pale as he stammered an excuse about needing to meet with a friend. He had practically run from the house that night. And there I was, barely done being a toddler myself, begging to hold her, and my mother didn’t want to let me.”

Tony was riveted. “Did she let you? Eventually?”

Ziva nodded as she spoke. “She had me sit on this very big armchair that was so deep that my feet didn’t even reach the edge. I held my hands out, excited, and then she carefully set Tali down on my lap and into my arms. She was fast asleep and I remember she was so _heavy._ But I loved her so much, Tony, and I remember – oh, I remember so clearly how I promised to protect her always.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and she reached to brush it away, the now-remembered pain at the way she had failed to keep her promise to her baby sister now swimming to the surface. Tony wrapped his free hand around her, holding her close as she cried, soft tears streaming down her cheeks at the old grief returning to the surface after so long.

“Please tell me we can protect her, Tony,” Ziva begged, her voice small and broken, and he held her tighter, if it was possible.

“You know I can’t promise that, but I can promise we will fight,” was all he said. How could he promise that they’d be able to keep their daughter safe when he didn’t even know what was happening to the world outside their comfortable little bubble they’d created here in the wilderness? They had no connection to the rest of humanity anymore. Widow could be ready to knock on the door tomorrow with two dozen men armed to the teeth, for all they knew, and the best they could do would be to fight as long as they were able, or until the last man fell.

“Is it wrong to be worried that by naming her after my sister, I have doomed her to a similar fate?”

“I don’t think so,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head and running his hand through her hair. “You would have worried about her regardless of what we’d named her. And it’s natural to feel fears about keeping our children safe, Ziva. I’m sure it’s something every parent goes through.”

She picked up her head, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes. “I do not think suburban soccer moms back home are exactly feeling what I’m feeling right now,” she said, her voice carrying only a slight bite to it.

“Of course they’re not. And I didn’t say they were. I’m just saying that every mom everywhere worries about keeping her children safe, regardless of the situation in which they live.”

She didn’t respond, choosing to settle back against him, allowing him to wrap his arm around her and run his fingers through her hair. Ziva sighed deeply, reveling in the warmth of his skin against her own. “It makes you a good mother,” Tony said, reminding her of his earlier words.

Finally, she relaxed, wiping the last of the tears from her face and wrapping her arm around his waist. He was especially comfortable to snuggle with, and so she used his body unashamedly for that purpose. “What about your mother, Tony? Tell me more about her,” she asked, her curiosity now getting the best of her. They’d spoken of his mother once before, but she really didn’t know anything about her, other than the fact that she’d given Tony his love of movies.

“Mom always wanted a big family, but she’d gotten sick after she had me. It was cancer, and it left her unable to have any more kids. She used to snuggle up with me in front of the TV as we’d watch old movies and tell me how sorry she was that I wouldn’t have a younger brother or sister, but I never let her feel bad about it. I told her that meant I got to have her all to myself.” Another loud crack of thunder sounded, causing both of them to jump, but they settled together again, chuckling at their reaction.

“Dad was always out of town for some reason or another, so it was usually just us anyway. And mom may have wanted me to have a sibling, but I really adored her, you know? So I tried to love her enough for all the kids she couldn’t have.” He stopped then, swallowing hard before continuing. “And one Saturday I woke up and looked for her in the living room and she wasn’t there. We’d stayed up watching The Wizard of Oz the night before, I remember that very clearly. And I finally realized she hadn’t gotten up yet, she was still in bed.”

“But she wasn’t asleep, was she?” Ziva pressed, her voice quiet as she took his hand, interlocking their fingers and giving them a squeeze.

“I was twelve, and all I can remember thinking is that I thought I would have more time. The cancer wasn’t that aggressive, and she’d been responding well to treatment. But something had happened during the night, and she never woke up. I called an aunt of mine, since I had no idea where my father was, and when he returned late that evening, I felt like I had failed him somehow. He’d always told me to take care of my mother, and here she’d died on my watch.”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” she responded, remembering the way he felt when Director Shepard had been killed on their protection detail.

“I know that, and I _knew_ that when I was a kid, instinctively, but I still felt the guilt all the same. And then I started to wonder – did I tell her I loved her before bed? Did I thank her for the cookies she’d baked? Did I give her a kiss goodnight? I started second-guessing everything. If I hadn’t given her a kiss goodnight, was that the reason she died? My mind started over-analyzing everything. I made sure to tell her before they finally closed the casket at the funeral, tell her everything I wasn’t sure I had before.” He wiped the tears that were welling up in his eyes, feeling again like that young boy, not quite a teenager but no longer a child, standing before the casket with his father behind him and his heart broken. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that she was the first woman who broke my heart.”

Ziva turned so she could wrap her arms fully around him, enveloping him in her comfort as best as she could. “She knew, Tony,” was all she said, barely audible over the sound of the rain pounding down upon the roof.

“I know,” he whispered back, tightening his arms around her, and letting her pull them so that they were lying down on the bed.

“You should also know that she would be proud of you, of the man – the father – you’ve become.” He smiled, exhaling a small breath, and reached to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. Yawning, he leaned his head back, stretching his neck. That completed, he nuzzled close to her, kissing her softly on the lips and wrapping his arm tightly around her.

“I know,” he finally responded, his words a gentle caress against her lips.

“Something is still bothering you though,” she added, sensing the tension still present in his body, the way his shoulders were raised and his breathing was labored.

Tony smiled slightly at her ability to sense his every emotion. If he didn’t love her so much, it might be an annoyance rather than something he found endearing. “It’s my dad,” he finally said.

“I am sure that he is fine,” she replied, furrowing her brow. The last time they had seen Tony’s father, he had been the picture of health, jovial and full of energy.

“It’s not that,” Tony started, rubbing his hand up and down her back as he spoke. “We just _left_ him. We’ve been gone for … well it’s got to be at least a year now, right? And now we have Tali and I know what it’s like to be a father, and all I can think is that my dad must be sick with worry about me. And probably about you, too – he really likes you, you know.”

Ziva chuckled at that. “I could tell.”

“We never had the best relationship, but we were trying. And I just disappeared without saying anything to him.”

“But we could not risk saying anything to anyone,” Ziva protested, and Tony nodded his agreement.

“I know, I know. And it wouldn’t have been smart to reach out to him. But I’ve barely given a thought to him in the past – however long we’ve been here,” he said with a slight wave of his hand before settling it back around Ziva’s waist. “And now we’re here, you and I have a family now, and my dad has a grandchild he might never get to meet.”

“I am sure–”

“That he knows why, and he understands. Of course he does. But I wish that he could get to meet her, Ziva,” he said, his voice low and urgent, as though it were of vital importance. It _was._ “He would adore her, just as he adores you. He’d be so thrilled that we’ve finally gotten together.”

Ziva merely smiled, encouraging him on with a squeeze of her hand at his shoulder. “Do you know that he told me that mom was the love of his life? I’d always known – that’s why Dad could never stay in a relationship for very long after she died. Mom was it for him. But he told me that not long ago. And you know what he said?”

“Hmm?” Ziva murmured, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to ensure that he knew she had his full attention.

“He said that his biggest regret was that he waited so long to ask her out, especially in hindsight since she died so young. And then he said that he didn’t want to see me make the same mistake. And I got mad at him. Told him to stop meddling and to mind his own business.” Ziva laughed, shaking her head at him.  

“I just hope that eventually we can get out of here and go home. I can tell him he was right and he can meet Tali.”

“I hope that, too,” she replied, nuzzling her forehead against his and leaning in for a kiss. She closed her eyes when their lips met, moaning softly at the contact but taking it no further, for now. “What’s important now is that we worry about keeping ourselves alive. We cannot do anything about your father, and he will understand. And I am sure that he will welcome the opportunity to meet Tali, whether she is a baby or a toddler or a teenager when he does.”

He tried to hide his cringe. “Do you really think it will be that long?”

“No,” she breathed against him, leaning in to kiss him good night. She shivered as another loud gust of wind whirred through the trees, causing the rain to sound as if it were scattering in fear as it pattered against the rooftop. “We should rest, Tony,” she said, giving him another loving squeeze for good measure. “Try not to worry yourself over things we cannot change. We have each other.”

“Then I can never want for anything else,” he breathed, kissing her hungrily before parting, breathing, “I love you,” and closing his eyes as his head hit the pillow. If it came down to it, he would happily live his days in this small cabin they’d built in the middle of nowhere as long as Ziva was here by his side.

“I love you, too,” she replied, and he hummed contentedly as she lifted the sleeping bag over her shoulder and settled against him, listening to the sound of the rain as they eventually drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look for Chapter 19 on Wednesday.


	19. Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tali begins to crawl and her parents start to worry about her newfound mobility when so many dangers lurk, and an unexpected visitor arrives at NCIS.

“We’re getting a bit low on kindling again,” Tony commented as he came back from his most recent trek, setting down the armful of logs he’d gathered. The storm had long passed, leaving behind some downed branches but otherwise leaving the area unscathed. Unfortunately though, they’d run through most of their smaller bits of wood in that time. They didn’t often need a lot of wood, particularly since they tried to keep their fire as small as possible, but they’d talked about building another shelving unit inside the house since they were starting to gather a lot of stuff.

Tali looked up at her father and cooed, and he leaned down to touch her nose with his finger, saying, “Boop!” as he did so, and she gurgled at him in return. Tony straightened back up and took his shirt off, discarding it in the pile of dirty clothes that was forming near the door. Perhaps later today he would make a basket for them to throw their dirty clothes in, instead of just leaving a pile. Just because they lived in the wilderness didn’t mean they had to be slobs.

When had he become so domestic?

Tali was playing happily on the tarp in the middle of the house while Ziva worked on patching up some of their clothing. She’d been smart enough to bring a _lot_ of thread with her, but Tony wondered what would happen if they ran out. Would they just resort to being naked all the time?

Then again, Ziva was resourceful, and she would probably know how to make some more thread out of grass or algae or something. “We could also use some more animal hides,” she mused as she set another article of clothing down. It was weird how they’d taken to wearing not just the cotton clothing she’d bought in the market all that time ago, but also clothing and accessories fashioned from the remains of the animals they’d hunted. Still, the skin pants he wore from time to time were extremely comfortable, and fit well, thanks to Ziva’s skill with a needle and thread.

After everything she’d proven to have skill with in the time they’d been together, he really didn’t know why he continued to be surprised by anything she did.

Tali cooed again, causing both her parents to look down at her, noting that she was not in the same spot that she’d been lying down in. They both watched as she tentatively put one hand in front of her, and then the other, scooting forward on her hands and knees.

“She’s crawling,” Ziva said, her mouth hanging open in amazement. Surely, this day was bound to come, but she couldn’t believe it. Their baby was mobile.

Her eyes widened at that thought. Their baby was _mobile._

Tony realized it at the same time, and he walked over to the door of the house, securing it firmly behind him. Now that Tali could move about on her own, there was so much more to worry about. “What are we going to do now? What if she wanders out of the house? She could end up in the stream, or kidnapped by some animal. There’s so much trouble for her out here.” Ziva was starting to panic. Tali had so quickly become one of the most important things in her world, and to think about losing her was too much to even contemplate.

“Babies crawl, Ziva, everything will be okay.”

“How can you be so calm about this? Did you not hear me mentioning all of the things she could get into?” It was so unlike her to panic, and she knew it, but then again, she’d never been a mother before, and she’d never had to worry about these things.

Tony crossed the room and sat down beside her, taking the piece of clothing she was mending out of her hand and setting it down on the table, then gathering her hands in hers. “The door is heavy, Ziva. There’s no way she can move it on her own – at least not yet. And I can make a gate for the door, if you’re that concerned about it. I’ll get started on it right away.”

Ziva took a deep breath and then let out a relieved sigh. Tony was right, and as always, he was her calming influence. She watched Tali from the corner of her eye as she continued scooting forward, then watched as the baby placed her hand unsteadily and it fell from under her, causing her to tumble forward. Although it wasn’t that far for her to fall, it still took her by surprise, and she let out a sharp wail of pain. Ziva was up in an instant, picking her up from the floor and patting her head gently, kissing the spot on her chin where she’d bumped herself.

“If you always pick her up when she cries, won’t she learn to be dependent on us for comfort, or something like that? My aunt always used to yell at my cousin for picking up the baby all the time whenever he cried.”

She hadn’t thought about that before. “I do not know, Tony. But I do not like to see her crying. I cannot explain… it is like this strange ache I feel when I see that she is pain.” Ziva wiped the tears from her daughter’s face and then set her back down, watching as Tali tentatively began moving forward again, tumbling forward onto her chest again after just a few feet of movement.

This time, Tali yelped out in surprise but didn’t start to actually cry, and Ziva left her alone, seeing how she would react. Tali didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Ziva hadn’t come to her rescue this time, and picked herself back up and tentatively moved her hand forward, testing the waters again. Both Tony and Ziva watched with interest as their daughter began to discover the world around her in an entirely new way.

“God, I wish I had a camera,” Tony said softly, and Ziva’s heart twisted in her chest at his words. What she wouldn’t give to have some way to record everything that was happening right now.

“I still can’t believe it, Tony,” she murmured, not responding to his comment. “Just look at her. She’s growing and learning new things every day. And she’s _ours.”_

Tony wrapped his arm around her waist, giving her a tight squeeze. Some days, he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. They watched in silence as Tali continued to scoot slowly around the cabin until she fell forward again, this time not picking herself up. Tali’s eyes began to droop a little, then snapped open, and the baby began to wail, obviously tired from the over-exertion of an entirely new form of exercise.

Ziva walked over and picked her up, cuddling her against her chest, and by the time she sat down again, Tali had already found her way underneath Ziva’s shirt and started her meal, giving no question as to what she wanted from her mother.

At least she would have no problems asking for what she wanted in life, Ziva thought to herself. Tony gathered a few of their tools and stepped outside, and Ziva could hear the sounds of him working on some sort of project. Perhaps he was working on that baby gate he said he’d make, or maybe he had something else in mind.

Ziva stifled a yawn as she looked down at her daughter, who was also fighting sleep as her suckling began to slow. Her tiny hand was plastered across her front, almost as if the baby had chosen to give her a hug, and her fingers started to slacken as he eyes started to close. Slowly, Ziva eased her away from her breast and wiped her face, noting as she did that Tali didn’t stir. “All that crawling around,” Ziva cooed with a smile, her voice barely a whisper.

She made her way over to Tali’s small bed, setting her down softly. Again, Tali didn’t stir, and Ziva yawned a second time, this time not even trying to stifle it. She wasn’t sure what had made her so tired, but rather than returning to the mending, which could certainly wait another day, she decided to lie down and take a nap. If she was tired, there was a reason, and there wasn’t a single thing that couldn’t wait until later.

Still, when she got to the bed and pulled the blanket over her body, she couldn’t seem to settle. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired; quite the contrary. She just couldn’t get comfortable. Frustrated, she threw the cover off and stepped outside, wondering what Tony was working on at the moment.

She opened the door slowly, peering out at her husband in the sunlight. “What’s all this?” She glanced around at an array of objects strewn about. There were tools and wood, of course, but several other things, some of which appeared to have been carved. Had he really made all of these things in this short amount of time?

“Well I came out here to start working on the gate, and I did start, sort of. But then I got to thinking about how she doesn’t have anything to play with. I mean, she didn’t really _need_ anything like that, but now she’s able to move around and explore a bit and it didn’t seem right that she doesn’t have any toys. Every child needs some toys, Ziva,” he said, shrugging as he beckoned her forward, inviting her to sit on one of the logs nearby.

“So I started with this – well, it’s kind of a doll, but it was hard to get the features just right,” he said, handing it to her, and Ziva ran her finger along the carved face. Tony wasn’t too adept at whittling, she noted, but there was love in the carving and that was much more important, in the long run. She was surprised at how smooth it was, but it seemed Tony had found an acceptable sandpaper replacement.

“I could make some clothes out of scraps of cloth,” Ziva suggested tentatively, not wanting to step on his plans for making their daughter some toys.

“I was gonna ask if you could, actually,” he replied, a sheepish smile turning the corners of his mouth. He’d tried his hand at sewing and found that he had no skill at it. Woodworking, strangely enough, had become his specialty, and he’d also become rather adept at pottery.

Ziva had some skill in both of those things, but the fact that Tony had found his niche had made it easier for her to take on some of the other tasks. As always, they complemented each other’s skillsets.

Tony reached for the doll and set it down, handing her another object, this time, a tiny wooden car, complete with small wheels that actually turned, though, judging by their unevenness, they would not make for a smooth ride. If they could smooth them down, she suspected that Tali would love it. She remembered when she was little how much fun it was to play with toy cars and watch them zoom around the house. “She will love this,” was all she said, putting it back down.

The final thing Tony appeared to be working on was a counting tool, something like an abacus, but it was actually much simpler. The toy had just one bar across the center with several carved objects on it – Ziva perceived a bear, a cat, and a dog – and it looked like they could be spun around and slid from side to side. It was perfect for a baby. Ziva spun one of the objects almost absentmindedly, marveling at how simple it was but how effective it would probably be in keeping her entertained.

“You did all this while I was feeding her?”

Tony shrugged, embarrassed momentarily at how impressed she was by this. It didn’t feel like a lot, of work to him, and it was something he’d actually enjoyed doing to pass the time while she fed Tali, something he didn’t always need to be present for. Thinking about how much she would enjoy playing with these things and the way her face would light up as she laughed had been all the motivation he’d needed.

Ziva watched with interest as his expression changed, the way his face softened at – what she surmised – was the thought of their daughter. She’d never really seen this side of him before now, and she wondered just why she’d never seen him as a father in all that time. She _had_ known, hadn’t she? That he would be a good father?

It startled her sometimes how much he’d shifted and changed over the years. If she were to look back upon the man she’d known when she first met him she would hardly recognize him now. He’d told her once how grateful he was for the people in her life who had made her who she was today, but she’d never thought to return that sentiment.

 _Maybe,_ she thought as she sat beside him, opting to help him build the baby gate for the door, _it is time to let him know that._

“What?” Tony asked, noting her gaze on him, and she flushed, caught, though it was hardly a crime to be caught staring at him after all this time.

“I just wish that I had seen you as the type of man who would be a good father sooner,” she said, her heart aching with how deeply she loved him. Sometimes, Ziva was sure that her heart would burst with how overwhelmingly full it was.

Tony straightened up, setting down the tool he’d been working with and facing her fully. “I’m not sure I’ve always been that sort of man,” he said, shrugging slightly as he looked at her almost shyly at the admission. There was a time when the idea of having a child who was his own flesh and blood terrified him more than anything else, and that included the number of terrifying situations he’d walked into headfirst. It hadn’t been the responsibility, nor the idea of leaving a legacy, but the thought that he simply wouldn’t measure up, especially given his disappointment in his own father.

“You are now,” was Ziva’s reply, a slight smile spreading across her face, and Tony returned it, accepting the compliment at face value.

“Good thing, huh?” He joked, just as Tali began to fuss from inside the house. Ziva stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him gently before heading inside, and he turned back to his work, intent on finishing everything he was working on so that he could share them with their daughter.

Ziva’s words had made him realize that he had changed, and for the better, and he wanted nothing more than to live up to the new expectations for what kind of man – what kind of father – he should be.

* * *

Gibbs’ desk phone rang, shattering the silence of the bullpen as McGee, Pruitt, and Thompson sat quietly filing the reports they’d been handling on their latest case, and all four agents looked up startled at the sudden sound on such a quiet day.

It was a Saturday, and there were few others even in the building, but Gibbs had chosen to have his team working their on-call weekend to catch up on the paperwork they’d been neglecting, and if they happened to receive a call-out, they’d be ready to go almost immediately instead of whenever traffic allowed them to make their way in. None of them relished giving up their weekend, but Gibbs had promised them a half-day on Monday if they could get caught up, so they worked without complaint.

A phone call on Gibbs’ desk phone on a Saturday afternoon could mean only one thing, and McGee groaned inwardly at the thought. He wasn’t really in the mood for whatever crime had been committed today, and it would have been nice if – just once – they could have had a nice, quiet Saturday.

“A call out?” Pruitt said softly to the others, so as not to disturb the eerie quiet of the bullpen.

“I really hope not,” McGee replied, realizing just how tired he actually was. Getting geared up and driving out to some crime scene just didn’t sound like fun. At all.

“Yeah, me too,” Pruitt said, looking absently down at his phone where he checked a text message. “Ned wants to go out tonight and I’d hate to cancel on him again.”

“Ned? Dorneget?” Thompson spoke up, looking over at him, her interest piqued. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

“Yeah um…” he said, flushing slightly. “More than that. We’ve been on a couple dates now. I uh… I really like him.”

“Nate, that’s awesome!” Thompson gushed, a smile spreading across her face. The day had been dreary and boring, and there hadn’t been much to smile about, but Thompson seemed genuinely happy for her partner and his newfound love interest.

“It really is,” McGee agreed. Pruitt heaved a relieved sigh, looking between his two coworkers. Coming out was still nerve-wracking, but both Thompson and McGee were a lot more accepting than his coworkers on the force. He didn’t like to admit it, but that had been part of the reason he’d sought employment elsewhere.

Thompson stepped out from behind her desk and sat on the edge of Pruitt’s, talking with him about his date, and McGee couldn’t help but join in. They needed a break from this day, and it would certainly give them something to talk about if they had to drive to some crime scene. They were chattering happily for a minute before Gibbs covered up the receiver of his phone and said, “Hey. Cool it,” effectively silencing them. Both Thompson and McGee slinked back to their desks, masking their disappointment, sitting down just in time to hear the end of Gibbs’ conversation. 

“Send him up, I guess,” Gibbs said into the phone, piquing McGee’s interest as he watched his boss hang up. There was no instruction to grab his gear nor was there any indication that they’d be going anywhere, so McGee returned to his files, concentrating on correctly inputting the data into the system, since it was clear that Gibbs wanted them to work, and was not going to explain the phone call or who would be coming up to the bullpen.

It wouldn’t be that long before he’d find out anyway, he mused, and almost as if he’d willed it into being, the elevator dinged and out stepped none other than Anthony DiNozzo, Senior.

Well, _that_ was unexpected.

“Agent Gibbs!” the jovial DiNozzo, Sr. called as he spotted the man he’d addressed, looking around the room as if expecting to see a much more bustling bullpen. “Where is everybody?”

“It’s Saturday,” Gibbs replied gruffly, not bothering to explain any further. While criminals didn’t exactly stop working on weekends, most investigations – aside from those which were most pressing – took minimal staffing on weekends and holidays, and even Tony’s father should have been aware of at least that much. This wasn’t the police precinct, after all.

“Oh,” he replied, pursing his lips together with a slight shrug, looking around again and letting his eyes drift first to McGee, and then noticing – for the first time – Thompson and Pruitt. “Where’s Junior?”

 _Had no one thought to inform Tony’s father that he’d disappeared?_ McGee wondered incredulously. Given the nature of Tony’s somewhat rocky relationship with his father it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t listed him as an emergency contact, but…

McGee’s head snapped up at the realization. Whether or not Tony had put his father down as an emergency contact was irrelevant, because Tony hadn’t been an employee of the agency when he and Ziva had left. No one had been required to call his father at all.

“Oh my god,” McGee muttered under his breath, and he sat there dumbfounded as Senior waited for an answer to the question he’d been asking.

“I’ve been trying to call him,” Senior was saying to Gibbs, fiddling with his phone as he spoke, “but he hasn’t been picking up. At first, I didn’t really think anything of it. You know how Junior is, especially when it comes to me. But it has been at least a month, and he never waits _that_ long to call me back.”

Gibbs said nothing, and Tony’s dad continued, not really caring that no one was answering him just yet. “And now I’ve come here thinking maybe he’s busy, and that’s why I haven’t heard from him. But…” he trailed off, looking around the room. “I don’t see him. Is he undercover or something?”

McGee glanced over at the new agents, both of whom were hard at work, or at least making a pretty good attempt at appearing to be, and then back at Gibbs, who would have the unfortunate task of answering Tony’s father about his whereabouts. Senior might take things better if Tony actually was only undercover, but he hoped that Mr. DiNozzo would understand why Tony had chosen to leave.

Then again, _Abby_ was still having trouble with that sometimes, despite the therapist she now saw once a week.

“Tony – and Ziva, as well – have gone dark,” Gibbs supplied, but offered no other explanation.

“Gone dark? What does that mean?”

Gibbs turned his head, nodding to McGee, and he took that as his cue, finally speaking up. “It means that they’ve gone underground, disappeared, basically. They’ve left their personal belongings and identification behind and have gone into what we can only assume is deep hiding.”

Senior’s eyes grew wide, and he stepped back, shocked. “Are they all right?”

“We don’t know,” was all McGee could say, and hearing his voice say that out loud to someone who was not in this building made him realize just how hollow it sounded. Surely, Senior would wonder how they could simply not know, but they didn’t.

“How? All these resources? Do you need help with finding them?”

Gibbs tried to hide a slight smirk at that, but he didn’t need to, as Mr. DiNozzo was hardly paying him any attention. “We’re not officially looking for them,” was all he said.

“Why the hell not?”

“We were… on a brief hiatus from the job,” McGee began to explain, trying not to go into full detail of their resignation and what that meant for their status. “At some point in that timeframe, which was not long, about a month or so, Ziva received a threat from a terrorist cell, and she must have assumed that it was leveled at both herself and Tony. Because of their situation and their lack of current ties to the agency, they thought it best to clear out and go into hiding somewhere. They left no trace – not even to us, the people they trusted – because if we could find them, then so could the terrorists. We’ve checked. There’s no trace of them.”

“But they’re agents. Shouldn’t you be looking for them?”

“Technically not,” was the response, and McGee took a deep breath as he exchanged a glance with Gibbs, getting the okay to give a little bit more information. “Last year, Tony, Ziva, and I all resigned our posts on a temporary basis in order to conclude a pretty messy investigation. I can’t really go into specifics, but we did so with the knowledge that we would be invited back within a month, two _tops._ And that’s how it happened, for _me…”_ McGee paused, running a hand across his brow as he considered how best to proceed. “But by the time I got my job back, Tony and Ziva were already long gone. Best we can figure, they decided that without the agency backing, they knew they were an easy target and they cleared out before it could come to that.”

“So you have no idea if they’re all right? Why wasn’t I told about this?” He was angry, and no one in the vicinity could really blame him. He’d had a right to know, and certainly a lot sooner. Thompson’s eyes went wide at the question as she realized the reason Tony’s father had probably not been told, and sunk down in her seat a little, trying to pretend as if she was suddenly especially interested in the report she’d been typing. Pruitt looked away, turning to read through the text messages on his phone.

“We can only assume, based on the fact that the terrorists haven’t contacted us to brag about having found them, that Tony and Ziva are fine, wherever they are. And uh…” he stammered sheepishly, clearing his throat, “since Tony wasn’t officially an employee, there was no one in personnel who was tasked with contacting his emergency contact.

“It’s been Ziva for a while anyway,” Gibbs supplied, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. Cracking jokes wasn’t usually his style – that had been DiNozzo’s specialty, after all – but this one wasn’t even really a joke, as it was a statement of fact.

Senior let that sink in for a moment, his expression serious as he mulled over the information he’d just been given. The fact that his son had been missing – intentionally so – was the biggest shock, but the fact that he’d apparently changed his emergency contact to his partner instead of his own father stung just a little, too. “Why wouldn’t he have told me?” he finally asked, not even attempting to hide the hurt in his tone.

“They would have both been especially careful about their communication prior to having left. Their phone records were spotless. They didn’t send any texts. They’d even wiped their computers clean. They didn’t want anyone to know they were leaving, lest it somehow lead the terrorists right to them.” Noting Seniors stricken expression, McGee reached over and patted the man’s shoulder. “It’s better that way, sir. If we can’t find them, then neither can anyone else, good or bad.”

“Well what in the hell good is that gonna do?” He snapped, stepping away from where McGee had been touching him, his anger only increasing. “You’re standing here telling me that my only family, my only child, took off because some psychopaths are after him?”

“They wouldn’t have if they’d thought staying would have been the better option,” Gibbs answered. Senior took out a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped at his brow, heaving a deep sigh as the full ramifications of what had taken place finally and fully hit him, and he reached for a chair, pulling it away from its desk and sitting down.

“Ziva’s his emergency contact?” He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Why would he put his partner, the woman who would probably be involved in whatever incident he got himself into that would require an emergency contact? What good does that do anybody?” No one answered, but McGee nodded at the wisdom of his words. It did seem rather ridiculous, given the nature of their job. It wasn’t like Ziva wouldn’t _know_ if something bad had happened to Tony in the line of duty, since she’d probably be right there with him.

“And you’re sure you don’t know where they are?” Senior accused, looking at Gibbs, who was still standing rather stoically across the bullpen from where Tony’s father now sat, resigned to the fact that his son was gone indefinitely. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“There are always things we can’t tell you,” was the response Gibbs gave, and Senior shot out of his seat, crossing the bullpen to stand in Gibbs’ face.

“You know something. You know where my son is,” he said, raising his hand, finger pointed unsteadily. Gibbs was being too quiet, too _unyielding,_ not to be hiding something, and he wasn’t going to leave until he got the information out of him.

“We don’t,” McGee piped up, finding his voice and intervening, despite that being the last thing he wanted to do. For all the ways he’d grown over the years, some confrontations still intimidated him, and angry parents were not a particular favorite of his.

“Ah, cut the crap, Agent McGee. You’re covering for my son and I want to know why,” Senior said, turning to face the man he was addressing. “So what is it, he and Ziva finally eloped? Ran off to some tropical island on their honeymoon somewhere and you’ve been told in no uncertain terms to keep me out of the loop?”

McGee was taken completely aback by that. How he _wished_ that Tony and Ziva had just run off for a few months on a rather epic post-marital vacation, because their safety would be much more guaranteed. “I…I…” he stammered, unable to process enough words to contemplate responding.

Gibbs offered no help, and so McGee swallowed a lump down and finally located the words he’d needed. Before he could speak, however, Gibbs’ desk phone sounded, and all heads in the immediate vicinity turned to it as Gibbs strode over to pick it up, dreading the call-out they would undoubtedly receive.

“Yeah, Gibbs,” he greeted and he immediately went pale at the sound of a heavily accented voice. He nodded to McGee, who instantly picked up on his boss’s body language. Swiftly, McGee sat at his computer and began to type, pulling up the program he’d need to start a trace on the phone call on Gibbs’ line.

Gibbs put the phone on speaker, wanting all of his agents to hear it – the more ears, the better – and finally, he replied to the person on the other end of the line. “What can I do for you?”

“I am surprised, Agent Gibbs, that you have not yet had any success locating your two agents,” the voice began, speaking slowly for added effect.

Gibbs waited a moment before responding, wanting to choose his words carefully. Finally, he responded, “They aren’t agents anymore,” was all he said, leaving the _“and we aren’t looking for them”_ to everyone’s imagination.

The person on the other end of the line made a clucking sound, indicating his disappointment. “And here I thought you would help us find Ziva David,” the man drawled. Senior looked like he wanted to speak, but Gibbs shook his head sharply at him, indicating that he should be silent, as it was neither his place nor within his capabilities to speak to a terrorist.

“I had no intention of doing any such thing,” was all Gibbs said in response, taking a short breath before speaking again. “Especially since your intent is to kill both her and DiNozzo,” he added, addressing the man’s intent without beating around the bush.

Only Tony’s father flinched at this, his discomfort obvious, but he sat back down, immediately recognizing that Gibbs and McGee hadn’t been lying to him – his son had been in actual danger and really had needed to skip out of town. He couldn’t really blame him, after all, he’d skipped town plenty of times himself, but never for something this intense. Actual terrorists were after his son. He shivered violently at the thought.

“I would have been fine with eliminating Ziva David only,” the man on the other end of the line said, amusement evident in his town. “But since her partner decided to assist her, he painted the target on his own back.”

Gibbs cringed at that, given who was listening in on this conversation, and he wouldn’t put it past the terrorist to know exactly who his audience was. Anthony DiNozzo, Senior would likely be less than pleased to know that his son could have hung back instead of running off with Ziva. At least when he’d thought that the threat had been leveled at both of them, Tony’s leaving would have seemed justified. Still, to his credit, Tony’s father remained silent despite the anger returning to his face. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t have tortured him for information? Used him to get at her? I find that hard to believe,” Gibbs supplied, more for DiNozzo’s benefit than for his own.

“Tortured, of course. Killed? That I cannot say.” No one responded right away, and so the terrorist on the other line continued. “This conversation is becoming a bit long, so I’ll be brief. We will find them, Agent Gibbs, and they will die. We will be watching you and your agency. Someone will give us information we did not previously have, and when they do, we will be ready to act on it. So I suggest you watch your backs.”

The phone line went dead and McGee shook his head, though no one in the room was surprised that the call couldn’t be traced. No one spoke for a moment and then everyone began speaking at once, a cacophony of nervous chatter reverberating throughout the bullpen, but it was Senior’s words that carried the most when he said, “Agent Gibbs, I owe you an apology. It seems there really was a threat.”

Gibbs said nothing, merely nodding slightly in response, and Tony’s father continued. “He had to follow Ziva, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” McGee answered, doing his best to reassure him. “He did. He had to have known that if he didn’t go with her, he’d have been their first target for information, and he might have turned up dead when he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – supply it.”

“Ziva has been trained for this by Mossad,” Gibbs added, meeting Senior’s gaze with a steely reassurance. “She knows what’s she’s doing, and she wouldn’t have asked him along if she didn’t think she could keep the both of them safe.”

“And he would have followed her lead,” Senior finally realized, speaking out loud as the thought came to him. Both Gibbs and McGee nodded. Thompson, still interested in the proceedings, said nothing, but watched with interest as her coworkers talked former Agent DiNozzo’s father down, admiring their finesse, while Pruitt decided to busy himself with his report, staying out of whatever strange family reunion was taking place here. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do? No calls I can make? Anything?”

“There’s no official investigation right now,” Gibbs lied, knowing better than to involve him in this. Tony’s father nodded, understanding the difficult position Gibbs must be in right now. Naturally, he would want to locate his two best agents and bring them back, but looking for them might lead the terrorists right to them, and not only that, they weren’t technically agents so he probably couldn’t do much regardless.

“I understand,” he responded, then turned to leave. He took only a few steps before he stopped, turning around to address the team again. “You’ll tell me if you find anything? Anything at all that pertains to my son?”

“Yeah,” was all Gibbs said, nodding in the affirmative, and Senior nodded back, turning around a second time and heading for the elevator, stepping onto it when the doors opened up with its telltale ding. He stared at the elevator doors for a few minutes, then spoke softly to McGee. “We don’t need to involve him any more than necessary.”

Picking up his meaning almost immediately, McGee looked over at the other agents before speaking, relaying what he’d gathered. “We don’t contact him for anything. Not unless we find Tony and Ziva. If he comes back, tell him we’ve had no progress, even if we have. Got it?”

Thompson responded in the affirmative, and Pruitt gave a quick thumbs-up indicating his understanding. Satisfied, McGee sat back down, looking back at the open trace he still had, running it through multiple different programs to try to track down the location of the phone call. Not that it would do much good, because even if they could find it, the caller would have moved on already.

In another window, he logged into the phone system and retrieved the audio recording of the call, putting on headphones and listening to it again, hoping that there might be something there but expecting nothing. After listening to it a few more times, he saved the file, tagged it, and e-mailed it to Abby for analysis, hoping that her equipment and expertise would drum up more than the nothing he’d found. Sighing, he rubbed his face with his hands and stared at the ceiling, missing his friends and saying another silent prayer for their safety before getting back to work.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorneget is not dead in my version of canon and I want him to be happy with Nathan Pruitt.
> 
> Thank you all for the support and love you have given on this story. Please look for Chapter 20 on Sunday.


	20. A Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva deal with a couple of new challenges in the jungle while Widow finds and tortures one of Ziva's sources.

“Keep an eye on her for a minute, Tony, I have to go.” Ziva walked away from their meal without waiting for a response from him, knowing that if she did, she wouldn’t make it to a more private area before her food came back up.

When she made it to a more secluded area, she keeled over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Her stomach churned and she felt almost instantly better, but she knew it, deep down.

She was pregnant again.

She cradled her stomach briefly, smiling slightly at the idea of another child, despite mentally laughing at herself for wanting it when the conditions for raising a family were so far from ideal.

The last thing she wanted to do was handle her own vomit, but she couldn’t just leave it exposed without the scent of it attracting predators unnecessarily so she grabbed a stick and did her best to dig a small pit with it, eventually burying it when she was satisfied that it would be covered.

Heading back to the house before she was missed for too long, she began to think about how she would tell Tony the news. He had been the one who’d figured out they were pregnant with Tali, but this time she would have the chance to tell him herself. Should she just blurt it out to him, or should she break it to him delicately? How would he react to the fact that they were about to have _another_ child they’d not planned for when they came out here?

They really needed to find some sort of birth control method, especially if they were going to be living here indefinitely. They could have ten more at this rate.

She came back into the cabin and sat back down at the table, resuming her supper. She’d left so suddenly that Tony looked like he had been worrying about her, but she hoped that he just assumed she’d had a bathroom emergency and wouldn’t press the matter. They’d had to discuss how to handle their own waste at one point, but generally it was not one of their chosen topics of conversation.

“Everything okay?”

So much for him not pressing the matter. “Everything is fine, Tony. There is no need to worry.” Her tone told him plainly to drop it, but Tony was an expert at ignoring her tone and pushing her.

“You looked pretty green. Do you think it was something you ate?”

“If it was, you have also eaten it.” She pointed out the obvious, and then realized that she would have to either come clean with her news, or come up with another explanation as to why she had run out of the house so suddenly. Good thing he was already sitting down. Maybe the simplest solution would be to just tell him.

“I think that I may be pregnant again, Tony.”

He set his food down on his plate, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Despite her earlier shock at the prospect of having another child, she had to kind of chuckle at his disbelief. They really were made for each other, if they were both so surprised that another child was a possibility. “We should have considered that this might be a reasonable outcome, given that we already have Tali and we haven’t stopped…”

“Fucking?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’d have chosen a kinder term for it, especially in the presence of your daughter, but yes.”

“She’s not old enough to understand it yet. Shouldn’t we have waited?”

“Did _you_ have some birth control method you were keeping from me? Because the only sure-fire way to keep from getting pregnant again is to stop having sex, and I don’t think that’s a positive solution for either of us,” she mused, hardly trying to keep the sarcasm from her tone, despite her amusement at his reaction.

He had the grace to look sheepish, but leaned forward, cupping her face in his hand and tilting her head toward his. He kissed her gently, his hand caressing her cheek as he pulled away. “I am definitely not willing to give up something we both love so much,” he teased, his voice lowering to that tone she recognized, the one that always sent a shiver down her spine. Tali would sleep soon. And now that she was already pregnant, it wasn’t like they had to worry about getting pregnant _again._ They could just… she shivered, and he smirked, knowing exactly where her mind had gone.

Tali was cooing beside them, however, and the mood between them lightened almost instantly. “This is not how I planned to raise a family, you know,” she said, looking over at their daughter. Sweet little Tali, who was now beginning to discover the world. Soon she would be walking, and after that she’d probably be running. Instead of covering up electrical outlets and getting kitchen cabinet protectors, they would be teaching their daughter to navigate different hazards, such as pointy sticks, poisonous plants, and four-legged predators.  

“I don’t think either of us planned this, Ziva,” he said, shrugging slightly, though she could see the way his expression changed to something more wistful. Perhaps he, too, had imagined it differently. Settling Tali on his lap in front of his home theater system and showing her some of his favorite children’s movies of all time. Driving around the town with her and showing her all of the sights in DC and teaching her all about the birth of the American government. Bringing her into the Navy Yard and showing her where Mommy and Daddy catch all of the bad guys.

Not hiding out indefinitely in the middle of nowhere, hoping against hope that they’d never be found by another living soul.

And what if they had to stay out here for even longer? It had been well over a year, she was sure of at least that much. What if Tali – and this new baby – grew to be older? Grew to the age where they should have learned to read and write? How would they reintegrate their children into a society so dependent on these basic skills they’d always taken for granted, skills they would be unlikely to have? What would she teach her child to read with? The tag on the sleeping bag?

“You’re a million miles away,” he observed, prodding her to open up to him.

“What do we do when we head back to the real world? When the threat is gone and we’re located by our allies? When our children have to go to school without having learned to read and write? When we have to introduce them to things like cars and cell phones and television sets? Living out here is scary, sure, but imagine being born into a world like this, with none of the modern conveniences you and I have grown used to, and then suddenly being whisked into a world of electronics that are probably confusing and scary. How are we doing right by our children that way?”

“By teaching them, as soon as we are able. That’s all we can do.”

“But what if…”

“They will learn. Kids adapt. You’ve seen that, we both have. All those kids on the cases we’ve worked that have had to adjust to a new way of life. They’re resilient. And we’ll be here to support and encourage them.” He paused, bending down to kiss Tali’s messy curls before continuing. “And we’ll teach them to read and write. Maybe it will be with a stick making letters in the ground, but we’ll do it.”

“How are you so confident?”

“It’s you, Ziva. It’s always been you.” She stared at him, her mouth agape. The last thing she felt was confident. If anything, she was scared out of her mind. Sensing her confusion, Tony continued. “Every time we’ve run up against a problem since we’ve been out here, you’ve had the solution. Predators nearby? That’s fine, we’ll hunt and trap them, and use every piece of them somehow. Shelter? You guided us to building a pretty spectacular and sturdy house. Childbirth? You just… _did_ that. You brought seeds to plant for a constantly renewable source of food, just in case we ran out of animals to hunt. Mosquito netting to keep us from getting bit by bugs when we’re inside. You led us to a fresh water source. You’ve even found a way to keep our fire from setting off enough smoke to essentially point people to our location. You’re the most resourceful person I’ve ever known. I’d have been dead a thousand times over if not for you and your smarts. If anyone can teach our children what they need, in this world or the ‘real’ world, it’s you.”

Ziva wiped away the tears that had begun rolling down her cheeks, touched beyond words at what Tony had said. Tali reached for Ziva’s leg then, babbling something incoherent, and she picked the baby up and cuddled her, checking to see if she’d soiled her diaper. She had, and so Ziva set about changing her, determining that she could feed her and then set her down to bed.

Despite her earlier desire for Tony, she was actually kind of tired herself. Maybe going to bed early would be nice. “You’re not worried at all?”

“Well yeah, I’d be a fool not to be. But we can’t worry about those things now, Ziva. They’re things we don’t have to deal with right now. Worry about the things we _have_ to worry about. If – _when,”_ he corrected, “we get back, we’ll deal with everything. Give her a few years and we’ll teach her to fight, and no one will ever mess with her.”

 _“I’ll_ teach her how to fight, if you want her to learn to do it properly,” she teased. Tony merely rolled his eyes, unwilling to fight that battle. If Ziva wanted to be the one to teach his daughter how to fight, he’d let her. _She’s right,_ he reminded himself, but shook his head nonetheless.

It wasn’t long before Ziva stood up and set Tali down for the night, covering her up with a heavier blanket they’d made of a deer hide. Tali didn’t even stir, and Ziva stretched, looking almost longingly toward the bed.

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” she said, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms. She would need to do a workout tomorrow – perhaps something light, like yoga – but tonight she just wanted to crawl into bed and rest.

Tony wasn’t far behind her, as it was starting to get dark and there was hardly any point to staying up when they had nothing to really do after dark with no light source, save for the faint firelight and the moon, when it shone in their part of the world. Shifting to her side so that she could face him, she caught his gaze in the darkness, glad to see that he hadn’t fallen asleep just yet.

“You’re really sure that it will all work out?” Ziva had never been the one to be so insecure, but motherhood had awakened a whole new set of fears that she’d never known before. She wanted their children to have everything; every advantage. How could she give them that?

Tony wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him and kissing her forehead. With his other hand, he reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. “No, of course I’m not sure,” he said honestly, his voice quiet even in the darkness of the cabin. “Who can be completely sure? But I know you, and I know that you’ll do everything in your power to do right by our kids.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, tightening his arm around her waist and pulling her all the way against him, deepening the kiss with a groan. He pulled away reluctantly, punctuating their embrace with a few more short kisses on her lips, delighting in the hums of pleasure she elicited with each one. “And I’ll be right here with you, and them. We’ll do this the same way we’ve done everything, Ziva.”

Inwardly, she smirked as she thought about the way they’d always been combative with each other, the way they had a different approach to everything. “How’s that,” she murmured against his lips, pressing hers to his again, smiling at the casual intimacy between them.

Tony moved his arm from the small of her back to the front of her stomach, rubbing her lightly there, no doubt remembering the second child they were both newly aware of. “Together,” he replied, wrapping his arm back around her and pulling her into an even tighter embrace before finally allowing sleep to claim them.

* * *

The first sign that something was off was the eerie quiet that surrounded them on their evening walk. Although Ziva had been feeling nauseous earlier in the day, she was adamant that she keep herself active and push through it, because they never knew when she’d need to be in fighting form. Morning sickness with Widow raining down upon them would be incredibly inconvenient, and she groaned at the thought that she might have to fight through this nausea, or worse, when she was even further along. It wasn’t something she’d even considered when she had been pregnant with Tali, as she’d been so occupied with worrying about motherhood. But now that she had a better understanding of what it entailed, she was free to worry about other things, namely Widow.

Still, the quiet was unsettling, considering the fact that there was never such a lack of activity in the jungle that quiet was ever a reasonable expectation. But there was a notable lack of sound today. No birds making their presence known with the usual warbling, and no critters calling out to their brethren for whatever purpose they felt it necessary to make noise.

“It’s… _quiet,_ isn’t it?” Tony remarked, and Ziva knew then that she had not been losing her mind.

“It’s very quiet. That is not a good sign.”

“What do you think it means?”

“It’s hard to say,” she mused, talking through her thoughts. “It could be any number of things, but I’m guessing it’s some type of predator that’s made itself present.”

“But there’s always predators around here. Why would this one be any different?”

Ziva shrugged. An expert in biology she was not. “It could be some sort of alpha predator, perhaps.”

“Could it be people?”

“The entire jungle didn’t stop just for _us,”_ she supplied, and Tony had to admit that she was right. Even when they’d been walking through on their way to this exact spot, they’d still heard all sorts of critter chatter. The fact that there was none now when even their own presence hadn’t halted it made him extremely wary.

“So what do you think it could be?” He was no expert on wildlife, even after all the time they’d spent out here already, but when Ziva shrugged, looking around rather nervously, he was entirely taken aback.

She was supposed to be the expert here. “We will have to investigate the area some. But we both have to be especially alert. If there’s some sort of predator that even the crickets are afraid to make noise over, then that means it could be well concealed and waiting to pounce.”

“What if we don’t find it?”

“We will eventually. Whatever it is will not stay hidden forever. It surely has its sights on something nearby if it’s in the area.”

“You don’t think it’s after…” he couldn’t say it. It was too horrible for him to even contemplate, let alone give credence with his voice. But what if it _was_ after her? She couldn’t exactly defend herself.

Ziva went pale, but she nodded slightly. “Unfortunately… yes. That is probably the case,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper and her chest tightened as she spoke the words. They were always watchful whenever Tali was out and about, as they certainly weren’t going to keep her cooped up in the house all the time, but now they would have to be even more aware of their surroundings. No more leaving her in the house to nap while they did other things outside, even if their eyes were on the house at all times.

“I think I am going to be sick, Tony,” she said, suddenly moving from where she stood beside him, but she didn’t get far before she was bent over, heaving into the dirt. He’d never been one to react to vomit, but the mere thought of anything happening to their daughter made his own stomach lurch, and he almost keeled over beside her. He swallowed a heavy lump down and watched as Ziva stood back up, covering up the emptied contents of her stomach and walking back into the house, coming back out with two bottles of water, handing one to him. He took it gratefully and sipped it, hoping to calm his own nerves.

“So what’s our next step?” he asked once he was sure that she was all right.

“We set up traps. Perhaps we can capture whatever it is before it gets close.” She surveyed the area around them, mentally cataloguing the materials they had in the immediate vicinity. Now that she was convinced that there was something that was nearby and waiting to pounce when they let their guard down, she didn’t want to go too far out of range of the house. As it was, she decided that she would never leave the house without a weapon again, even if she was just going to the spring for three seconds.

“I suppose you know how to make traps out of whatever natural materials we can scavenge up?”

“You suppose right,” she replied, catching his eye and smirking, but her smile faded as she caught his expression, solemn and clouded with worry.

“We’re… she’s…” he trailed off, then took another swallow of his water. “It’s going to be okay, right? Tell me everything’s going to be okay, Ziva.” His voice cracked as he spoke her name, and she immediately stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him against her, kissing his shoulder gently as she held him, letting him lean on her for comfort.

“We will take out whatever it is, Tony, I can promise you that. And nothing is going to get near her.” The resolution in her voice was all the convincing he needed, and he sighed heavily against her, nodding his understanding.

“I thought maybe one day I would have kids, and you know, I always knew that I’d always want to protect them, but I can’t say this is exactly what I had in mind,” he said finally, heaving another sigh as he drew her closer, relishing in the comfort of her closeness.

“There would always be something that would cause us to fear for the safety of our children,” she replied, giving him a tight squeeze. “It may not have been mountain lions back home, but we did a dangerous job. It’s not a stretch to assume that terrorists would be after us even if we did still work at NCIS.”

Tony sighed, reaching up to brush an errant hair from his face, then returning his arm to its spot around her waist. “I know,” he said softly, “but I still worry.”

Ziva drew back to arm’s length, shaking him lightly as she met his eyes. “You’re supposed to, Tony. That’s what parenting is. We spend our days and nights worrying that our children will be okay, that they’ll not only survive but thrive. You think that just because we’re out here that it’s any different?”

“Well no, but…” he trailed off. He didn’t really have a strong rebuttal to her claim, so he slumped his shoulders slightly and let out a puff of air.

She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke the next words, a vow. “We will get whatever it is, Tony. Nothing is going to harm her.”

That night, they bundled Tali up in the sling and explored the area, stalking silently through the jungle in the hopes that they might draw the predator out, but they weren’t successful. There weren’t any tracks left behind to help either of them determine what type of animal they were tracking – a fact that might have increased the probability that they’d be able to find it – and the jungle remained eerily quiet, as if in wait for something yet to come.

Ziva was not bothered by this setback, and instead instructed Tony on how to set traps using the materials they’d found. “If we cannot hunt it and draw it out that way, then perhaps this will work,” she had mused as she set up one of her makeshift traps. The traps would likely not kill whatever it was, but it would certainly keep it from getting to them.

For several days, they both went about their regular routine, spending each evening wandering around the perimeter of their home to check the traps they’d set. All of them were always intact, with no signs of disturbance, and although it still appeared that there was a predator in the area, it seemed savvy to the fact that it was being hunted and had made itself scarce.

After a week of this, Ziva had had enough. She would wait until it was time for Tali to have her final meal of the day, knowing that she may need to be gone for a while, then set out with the bow, instructing Tony to care for her while she was gone. “I will not be gone long, but I fear that all three of us being out at once have made it want to stay in hiding. Perhaps I can draw it out if I am by myself.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked nervously, clutching Tali to his chest. She was sound asleep and likely would be for hours, but if she did happen to wake up and Ziva wasn’t there, there was little he could do to comfort her. It wasn’t like they had any bottles.

“It is the only way. You are not exactly light-footed, Tony. I need to be a ninja today,” she said with a smile, catching his eyes as they lit up with mischief. He loved ninja Ziva, and as much as he wanted to watch her in action, he knew that she was right – he was far too heavy-footed to sneak up on anything in the wilderness.

She started to step away from him, but he reached for her, taking her hand and saying, “Wait.” He pulled her into him, ignoring her confused glance as he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her gently before gazing into her eyes. “Be safe,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her gently again, resting his forehead on hers as he looked at her earnestly.

Ziva relaxed against him, breathing in his scent and touching her hand to his cheek. “Always,” she said softly, kissing him again before pulling away and stepping silently into the forest.

She tiptoed toward her mark, both listening and looking for anything amiss. She hadn’t told Tony earlier, but she had a hunch that something had been lurking in this direction in particular, and so she’d headed this way first in order to try to draw it out.

Silently, she stepped through the jungle, carefully watching every step she took. When she reached the area she predicted she might find the predator she was looking for, she raised the bow in wait, ready to fire the millisecond it emerged. She crouched down to the area where the brush was thickest, pushing some of it out of the way and exposing what appeared to be an animal’s den. She inwardly debated whether or not she should lie in wait for it, but the decision was made for her when a low, growling sound came from behind her.

Ziva sucked in a breath, stiffening instantly. This was not how she wanted to greet the predator that had been so keen on threatening the home they’d made. Carefully, she turned her head, making sure not to meet the predator’s eyes, lest it view that as a challenge. A large mountain lion stared back at her, his eyes glaring at her. Keeping her gaze away from its face, she slowly rose to standing and turned slowly to face it fully, trying to make herself appear as non-threatening as possible. A threatened predator would be much more dangerous. She had to make sure that it didn’t feel as though it needed to attack her.

The lion continued to stare at her, taking one sure step forward, and Ziva drew in another breath, hoping that only she would be able to hear the pounding of her heartbeat. The lion didn’t move again immediately, and Ziva drew the bow back up very slowly, holding her breath as the lion began to take another step toward her.

With the lion facing her the way it was, it would be difficult for her to get a good shot, and she really needed to make this one count, even though she had several other arrows and she was very quick at pulling them from the quiver and aiming again. Still, there wasn’t much distance between her and the lion, and missing would likely result in her being attacked.

At least she had a knife with her, she rationalized. Even if she did get attacked, all she’d have to do would be to take the knife off of her belt and stab the animal. Easier said than done, of course, but she was able to engage in both distant and close combat, if necessary.

She drew back the string of the bow, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. The lion took another step toward her, and Ziva backed away carefully, angling herself so that she could get a broadside shot of the animal. Even if she could get the shot at an angle she would have a better chance at hitting a vital organ than she would from the front. Taking one more slow step backward and seeing that the lion was about to turn toward her, Ziva took her chance, firing the arrow at the lion and striking it just behind the shoulder blade. The lion didn’t fall immediately and sprang forward, causing Ziva to reach for her knife, but it didn’t have the strength to really leap up, falling down a few steps from Ziva’s feet. Although it was still breathing, it appeared to be losing its battle with the arrow now lodged into what Ziva assumed was its lung. She stood over it and watched as it drew its final breath, and she finally let out a deep sigh of relief. It almost felt as though the weight lifted not only from her own shoulders, but from the entire jungle, and soon there were birds chattering as if to tell their friends what had just occurred.

Ziva wasted no time in cutting up the animal and removing its guts and then dragging it back to the house, finding some twine and hanging it from a tree to dry for a bit before she could skin it and cut up the meat. She stepped into the house, her hands bloodied, and Tony immediately stepped up, wrapping his arms around her, leaving her surprised but oddly comforted, and she refrained from hugging him back, saying, “I do not want to get blood on your shirt.”

“Well go wash your hands then,” was all he said, and she laughed, stepping back out. Tali was still asleep so she worked on the animal until she awoke, then left the knife behind for Tony to take his turn. He wasn’t as skilled at it but he was adequate, and she was needed elsewhere anyway.

That completed and the meat put away, some of it set on the fire to cook, Ziva broke the silence between them finally. “We should remain vigilant, Tony, but I do not think we need to worry anymore.”

“We always need to worry,” was all he said, and she looked at him sadly, realizing that the truth of the matter was, as long as Widow was out there, they would never be able to live their lives worry-free, and they spent the rest of the evening in silence, each of them brooding in their own way.

* * *

“We’re getting nowhere,” Tamir sighed in frustration. They’d been working remotely, using all of the resources at their disposal to locate anyone who might have information on Ziva or her partner, and so far, they’d come up with nothing. No one they spoke to had any information, and many of them had told them – essentially – to go to hell.

“Shut up,” Daniel hissed, looking surreptitiously over at Levi, who had been given a slightly elevated role in their ranks, and who would not hesitate to bark at them if he thought they weren’t doing their jobs. “He’ll tell Mr. Aman and then we’ll be back to the damn helicopter hunt again.”

Tamir shuddered, not too keen on going back to that particular activity. Another team was out on the hunt already, but with new funding apparently coming in from one of their government officials, it was all but inevitable that they’d be back to scouring the globe for the pair by the end of the week. This air-conditioned military warehouse with a few computers and an internet connection was a definite improvement and something to be treasured, despite the fact that they had no leads.

“Oh, what’s this?”

Both Tamir and Daniel perked up at Levi’s voice, sounding interested for the first time in days, and his eyes appeared glued to the computer screen as he looked through whatever it was he’d found. Neither of them moved, waiting instead for Levi to start speaking, knowing that he would bring them up to speed once he’d read through everything on the screen.

It wasn’t long before Levi was looking up from his screen, turning it to face the others. “Vivian Mays, a contact of Ziva David’s, who happened to have been in the United States within the weeks prior to our mark’s disappearance.”

“You think…” Tamir trailed off, not wanting to ask the question. It was surely a coincidence that she had been in the country, and it didn’t mean that Ziva had reached out to her at all.

“There are no phone records indicating that they spoke at all,” Daniel pointed out, looking through the records they’d had for what seemed like the thousandth time. The only phone calls Ziva David had really made after having left NCIS were to her former partner, Tony DiNozzo. There was no one else to whom she’d spoken in that time.

“Can we pull up any records on this Mays woman?” Levi asked, looking over at Daniel. “Look at the numbers that have contacted her, find anything out of the ordinary? Obviously Ziva wasn’t careless enough to use her own phone, but she may have used a burn phone or a pay phone.”

“I won’t be able to get that stuff today, you know,” Tamir sighed at the impatience of his fellow operatives, but this was the closest thing to a lead they’d gotten. It would probably turn up nothing, just like the other leads they believed they’d had. This search had been the most frustrating and fruitless endeavor any of them had ever embarked on.

“I know that, but if we tell the boss we have a lead, he may let us stay out here a little longer until we squeeze all of the information we can out of it,” Levi said, and it was then that both Daniel and Tamir realized that he was still – for the most part – on their side. He didn’t exactly relish the thought of flying the entire world in a helicopter, either.

As expected, Rafi Aman gave them permission to chase down this one lead, despite the likelihood of it being a dead end. He was growing impatient with the search, however, and he was willing to entertain the thought that this woman might have at least _something._

It wasn’t long before they’d found that she was in her home city of Manchester, England, and they’d tracked her down within the city not long after that. It had been easy to locate her flat and they approached her with threats to come with them, an easy instruction for her to follow with four guns trained on her. Aman himself decided to participate in this one, wanting to get the sense that he was getting just that little bit closer to finding Ziva David. They tied the informant to a chair, all four of them surrounding her, and when they’d stared at her long enough, Aman was the first to speak.

“Tell me everything you know about Ziva David,” he drawled, speaking slowly and deliberately, his voice sounding as thick and gravelly as the dingy warehouse seemed to feel.

The informant was surprised to hear the name, and she made no effort to hide it. “Ziva David? I have not spoken to her in…” she trailed off, glancing off to the side for a moment as she became lost in thought. When _had_ she last had contact with Ziva? She couldn’t remember exactly. “In… a _while.”_

“And you don’t find that to be rather… odd?” Aman continued, and Vivian’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t try to antagonize him, hoping that by answering the questions he would allow her to leave.

“Well that’s not all that unusual. We have never really kept a constant stream of communication,” was all she said, and it was true. It had been well over a year – probably closing on two, at this point – since the last time she’d spoken to Ziva, but as with all of the people she maintained open communication with, there would be lengthy blackout periods that were not to be taken as anything abnormal.  

Aman was getting impatient. “I’ll cut right to the chase, Ms. Mays. Where is she?”

Again, Vivian was surprised at the question, and she didn’t even bother to hide it. “In the United States. The capital,” she replied slowly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She was noticeably confused, but none of the four men who had brought her to this warehouse today seemed to buy it, and she glanced around nervously at all of them, trying to figure out what was going on.

One of the others stepped forward, taking over for the first man. He held a knife at her arm, scratching her slightly but not drawing blood. “Think again,” the man said, smoking a cigarette and talking around it.

Vivian tried not to pay attention to the knife that was now tracing patterns in her skin. “I have not spoken to her in some time, but the last I heard from her, she was in DC. If she’s not there, then I haven’t the slightest clue where she is.”

“Wrong answer,” the man said, digging the knife into her skin now, slicing a long line into her arm, and Vivian looked on in horror as a ribbon of blood began to paint her skin.

“I don’t know anything,” was all she said, gasping now and trying not to cry. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing them break her.

Withdrawing the knife from her left arm, the man poised it over her right arm, nodding slightly toward it as if to indicate that she might want to be more forthcoming with information if she didn’t want her right arm to suffer the same fate. “What did you communicate with her the last time you spoke?”

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the pain while simultaneously trying to recall the last time she and Ziva had spoken. It was several minutes before she spoke again, and when she opened her eyes, an errant tear had begun to run down her cheek. “She asked me about a terrorist organization. If they were in the country. That’s _all,”_ she replied, her voice sounding more desperate than she wanted it to, but her left arm was burning with the pain inflicted by the knife.

“And what was this organization called?”

She looked down at the knife and the hand holding it, knowing it would likely be used to cut open her other arm if she didn’t give them the answers they wanted. “Widow,” was all she said, and the holder of the knife scratched her arm with it, but didn’t break the skin. Vivian held her breath, only letting it out when he withdrew the knife.

“And what did you tell her?”

“That they – you, I’m assuming – were not in the country at all, to my knowledge,” she responded, and although she had given them the information they were looking for, the man grunted with rage and sliced her other arm anyway, causing her to cry out with pain. “Please, stop! I only told her the truth!”

“Do you know that she went underground?”

“No! I swear I don’t know anything else except that. The conversation lasted less than three minutes, and I haven’t spoken to her since. You have to believe me!”

Aman finally started speaking again. “Oh, we don’t have to believe you at all, Miss Mays,” he said, taking the knife from the man who held it and stabbing her hand with it, effectively nailing it to the table. She squirmed in her chair, her screams drowning out the sounds of anything else in the warehouse, and the four men left her to stew in her pain for a while.

Vivian concentrated on breathing deeply and thinking about anything she could to erase the pain, but it wasn’t working. She looked down at the knife stuck into her hand and then both of her arms, the blood now dried and dirty and the wounds already looking horrible. She tried to think back on the conversation she’d had with Ziva, but it was exactly as she’d said. Ziva hadn’t told her she was going underground – and why would she have?

When the men came back, Vivian was dripping with sweat, the beads of it running down her body and into her open wounds, causing them to sting even more, something she hadn’t known was possible. She had dried tear stains on her cheeks, and she’d wiped her nose on her shoulder, as best as she could, so she was certain that she was now also covered in snot.

She had no idea how much time had passed or what else they could possibly want from her, but she was resolved to get out of this alive and cooperate with them as best as she could. One of the men who hadn’t yet questioned her stepped forward, leaning closely into her face, and she could smell the faint odor of cigarettes on his breath as well. She resisted the urge to cough in his face, tempting as it was.

“Have you given any more thought to the question?” he asked, and she drew in a deep sigh, noting as she did that it hurt even to breathe now.

“I have been thinking of nothing else,” was her answer, and she tried to look as truthful as she possibly could. Four pairs of eyes watched her expectantly, and she closed her own briefly before opening them again, meeting the eyes of the man she believed was the leader. “And it is like I said. She did not tell me anything. I have no information to give you,” she croaked, knowing even as she spoke that this answer would not please them, but it was all she had.

“You lying bitch,” Aman said, stepping forward and pulling the knife from her hand, causing her to cry out again in agony.

“I’m… not… _lying…”_ she said desperately, but his eyes and widened and he looked crazed, and at that moment Vivian knew that she would not be leaving this warehouse, no matter what she said. She heaved one deep breath before speaking again. “I… _don’t… know… where… she… is…”_ she hissed, her words becoming more and more labored with the pain in her hand now becoming so intense she felt as though she might pass out.

The leader threw water on her face, however, and she knew that it was an attempt to keep her awake. “Tell me!” he roared, his voice drowning out the sound of her own heartbeat.

“Try… Mossad,” was all she said, trying to shift the onus to someone else. She had nothing left to give, and they wouldn’t believe her if she did.

“We have already _tried_ that,” one of the other men spoke up, leaning toward her, and she caught a sniff of his breath along with body odor, making her already labored breathing that more difficult.

“I already… _told_ you…” was all Vivian could say, and she felt herself starting to grow lightheaded, sure she would pass out this time, but before the sweet release of unconsciousness could take her, she was doused with another glass of water, making her instantly alert again.

“She has nothing, boss,” the first man finally said, and for the first time since she’d been picked up, she felt something akin to hope that she might survive this entire ordeal.

“Then let’s send a message,” was all the man said, and he twirled the knife around in his hand, using the other hand to lift Vivian’s head up by the chin so that she could watch him as he toyed with it. He clenched his fingers around her jaw then drew his face toward her, her eyes wide with fear as he looked her dead in the eye and spoke. “I hope she was worth your life, cunt,” the man said, and then drove the knife into her chest, twisting it handily and killing her, her head slumping in the chair.

“I want that body dumped in Washington,” Aman said before striding out, but then turned around to face his men. “And make sure that it cannot be traced back to us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look for Chapter 21 on Thursday.


	21. Overworked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Gibbs receives Widow's message and begins working a new angle. Meanwhile, Ziva struggles with the realization that she needs to let go of some control.

“Why on earth did they call us for this?” McGee asked, noting that the dead woman they’d been called out for did not come up as any relation to anyone in the military, nor had she ever even worked as a contractor on any military base.

“Um,” called out Palmer as he and Ducky lifted the body to bring it back to the Navy Yard, “Maybe this is why?”

The concrete in the alley upon which the dead woman had been lying was covered in blood. That, in itself, was not unusual. Brutal murders tended to bring about their fair share of blood, seeping and oozing from its origin point to paint the ground in a most unsettling way. This blood, however, scrawled a message, chilling in both its blatancy and its audacity: “FOR ZIVA DAVID.”

“Widow?” Thompson suggested, though her interjection was wholly unnecessary. Everyone at the scene knew that there was only one possible culprit. Pruitt busied himself with photographing the scene now that the victim had been removed and the message had been unearthed.  

“What do we know about her?” Gibbs piped up, his head bent down slightly to meet with the hand that was now rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“Vivian Mays, British national,” McGee said, reading from the screen in his hand. “Several aliases listed. No links to Mossad or NCIS, nothing tying her to Widow, either. Not on any terror watch lists.”

“Informant,” Gibbs supplied, and McGee nodded his head. It was the only explanation. Ziva had once mentioned the fact that she had several contacts scattered throughout the globe, and this woman was most likely one of them.

McGee put the pieces together. “Widow must have tracked her down, pressed her for information on Ziva, and then killed her.” He wondered if they’d gotten anything, and if Tony and Ziva were now in grave danger of being located based on something Ms. Mays had given them.

“You think she gave them anything?” Thompson asked, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she looked up at the more seasoned agents. McGee’s mouth tightened into a frown as he tried not to let the personal nature of the case get to him.

It was a losing battle.

“We have no way of knowing, do we?” She continued, and all three of the other team members looked at her, their stares confirming what she already knew – if Widow had gotten anything out of this contact, they were undoubtedly already on the way to wherever Tony and Ziva were, and they’d be none the wiser.

“Would they have killed her if she had given them something?” Pruitt piped up.

“To keep her from talking to us? Absolutely,” McGee supplied.

Gibbs added, “If they got a lead, they don’t want us to know about it.”

“So we have no way of knowing,” Thompson responded rather unnecessarily, repeating her earlier words. At that, the team worked in silence, gathering what pieces of evidence they could from the blood present, though as far as physical evidence went, there wasn’t much of it.

Less than two hours later the four of them sat silently in the government-issue sedan headed back to the Navy yard, Gibbs’ brooding making the air inside the small vehicle stiflingly oppressive. More than once McGee considered speaking, saying _anything_ to lift the heaviness in the air, but there was nothing he could think to say that wouldn’t sound trite in the face of what they were just now reminded of – Tony and Ziva were out there somewhere, and at this very moment, ruthless terrorists could be headed straight for them.

When they got back and Abby came to collect the paltry amount of evidence they’d brought back with them, she smartly kept to herself as she noticed their somber moods. Still, she pointed out one thing that the rest of the team members hadn’t thought of: “If Tony and Ziva had done such a good job covering their tracks from _us,_ then one of Ziva’s contacts probably had no idea she was even gone, let alone _where.”_

McGee had to admit that she had a point. Ziva, with Tony’s help, had left no clues as to where they’d been headed. They’d avoided surveillance, they’d wiped their computers. Even their bank accounts didn’t seem to have any unusual activity. Even if Ziva had contacted Vivian Mays before she and Tony had left – and that, in itself, was a huge _if_ – there was no way she would have indicated her plans. Ziva knew many things, chief among them being that people _will_ talk, if enough pressure is placed upon them. It was one of the things she was skilled at herself – extracting information. In order to be completely sure that none of her informants would be able to leak information, she’d have done the only thing she could to keep them quiet: tell then nothing.

“She’s got a point,” McGee pointed out to Gibbs as they took the elevator back upstairs, and Gibbs merely nodded. Of course he knew that, and instinctively, they’d both _known_ that, but now they were dealing with dead bodies with clearly sent messages from an obviously desperate group of individuals on top of everything else.

The moment they stepped off of the elevator, Director Vance was waiting for them in the bullpen. “Leon,” was all Gibbs gave as a greeting, and the director nodded at him.

“I’ve contacted Mossad on this, Gibbs. They’ll be online in MTAC in about three minutes.” Before Gibbs had a chance to question the director, he continued. “Ziva had a lot of contacts we didn’t know about, and you know it. Mossad might be able to provide some insight you wouldn’t be able to gain on your own.”

Recognizing that Leon had a point, Gibbs said nothing and motioned for McGee to follow him up to MTAC. “You two, run down those aliases. Find out what kind of things she did under all those names.”

“Got it,” Pruitt nodded, and Thompson immediately rushed to her desk and began to work.

With that, Gibbs half-ran up the stairs to MTAC, McGee hot on his heels, and it wasn’t long before the two of them and Director Vance stood there speaking to Director Orli Elbaz, Malachi Ben-Gidon, and Liat Tuvia, who had recently returned from a deep cover operation and was willing to offer her input as an operative who had faced similar situations that Ziva had, given her standing in Mossad.

“She is not one of ours,” Orli was saying, looking over the information she’d been given over a secure server not long before the call. “I do not know any of my officers who have contacted this woman.”

“Her aliases?” Gibbs asked, sensing that it was unlikely that this woman had made any contact with Mossad.

“None of these stand out, either, Agent Gibbs. It appears that this contact is one of Ziva’s own. Judging by the fact that she has several aliases, it seems likely that she was not terribly interested in working directly with any agencies and preferred to keep her name out of the mouths of operatives. She must be someone who is fiercely loyal to those with whom she has maintained contact, unwilling to put her neck out for anyone else.”

McGee, Gibbs, and Vance exchanged a look, and Liat cut in. “I have made similar contacts,” she said smoothly, her accent thick after years of having not used the English language. “It is likely that Ziva did something for her – saved her life, or a family member, perhaps. That kind of loyalty is very unusual. If she had information, she would die before giving it.”

“How many of these secret contacts did she have?” McGee wondered, asking no one in particular, but Liat, not one to let anyone forget her superior knowledge, spoke up immediately in response.

“Dozens, maybe more. A contact that no one else in her circle has access to is more valuable than you can imagine.”

“Then why would Widow target this one? How did they find her?” McGee asked, his curiosity only growing as the pieces of the puzzle fit together seemingly less and less the longer this case went on.

“An excellent question,” Orli mused, a frown settling on her face, her brow furrowing as she brooded silently. Liat and Malachi exchanged a glance behind her, and McGee shifted his weight from one foot to the other before speaking.

“What if – and forgive me for just thinking out loud here – but what if Ziva contacted Vivian Mays regarding Widow? We know that Ziva received a threatening letter sometime before she and Tony skipped town. Maybe Ziva wanted to be sure she wasn’t being watched before they left, so they could get away clean. Maybe she figured she should reach out to a contact that no one else knew about – Vivian Mays. And maybe Widow found out that she had been poking around and tracked her down.”

“That… actually makes sense,” Vance said slowly, wheels beginning to turn in his mind.

Malachi spoke next. “Ziva would not have told Vivian that she was leaving, only that she had received a threatening letter. She might have just been looking for a threat assessment on the surface. Maybe finding out their whereabouts, but without giving anything away.”

“It is not unusual to reach out for a threat assessment, I do it all the time,” Liat added, and Malachi nodded.

“And Vivian would have probably not thought this to be odd at all. It’s the kind of information she would probably be used to sharing with Ziva,” Malachi added, speaking absently, almost as if he were merely reading his thoughts aloud.

“That’s good thinking, McGee,” Gibbs said, giving him a light pat on the shoulder. It wasn’t that big of a break, and it didn’t get them any closer to locating Tony or Ziva, but they might be able to find out more about how Vivian Mays had looked into Widow’s whereabouts right around the time Tony and Ziva had disappeared. Even though it wouldn’t lead them any closer to the pair, it could lead them to more information about Widow, and any information on that front would be just as valuable – if not more so – than the location of their friends. McGee gave a half wave to the Mossad operatives on his screen and excused himself, heading for the doorway to leave MTAC. He had work to do.

Just as they stepped outside MTAC, Abby pounced on them, her excited, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” alerting them to the fact that she had something.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve just gotten the blood samples back from the mass-spec, and there’s something you need to know about the blood that the message was written in,” she said, handing him a sheet of paper. McGee looked over his shoulder, not sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

“And it’s not Vivian Mays’ blood?”

“It’s not her blood,” Abby confirmed, cocking her head slightly with a smirk.

“Then whose is it?” McGee asked, sensing that Gibbs was getting just as impatient as he was.

“It’s nobody’s,” she said matter-of-factly, speaking slowly and deliberately to ensure that her point was made, adding emphasis by moving her hands as she spoke. “They used fake blood to stage the scene of the crime and write that message. Which means–”

“They didn’t kill her there,” Gibbs interrupted flatly.

“They didn’t kill her there,” Abby continued, completely ignoring the fact that she’d been interrupted, “and I bet when you talk to Ducky, you’re gonna find that she’s been dead longer than we originally suspected.”

McGee sighed, pinching his brow in annoyance. “So where the hell _did_ they kill her then? And how did they transport the body without anyone seeing them? And why the hell can’t we get _any_ breaks on this case?”

Abby looked at McGee, then at Gibbs, and back at McGee again. “I’ll keep combing through the evidence, but these guys were smart. They could have killed her _any_ where, and they dumped her here with fake blood just to send us a message.”

“It’s pretty clear,” Gibbs said with a sigh.

“Crystal,” added McGee, and he stepped down the stairs into the bullpen where he hoped he would find the one thing that would crack this case wide open and finally bring them closer to finding Tony and Ziva.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Tony asked, worry causing him to furrow his brow as he held Tali at his hip. Ziva had been throwing up all day, the middle stages of her pregnancy wreaking havoc on her body.

“I am fine,” came the answer, and Tony shook his head. Mother or ninja, some things about Ziva would never change.

He set one of the water bottles he’d filled beside her on the bed, reaching over to pat her on the shoulder, rubbing lightly there. “You’re always beautiful to me, Ziva, but you really don’t look fine,” he said, his concern evident. She sighed, giving in.

“I feel terrible, Tony,” she admitted, sitting up slowly and taking a sip of her water, then waiting a moment while she got her bearings before speaking again. “But I will _be_ fine.”

“Of that I have no doubt, my love,” he responded, giving Tali a kiss on the cheek, laughing as she squirmed in his arms. She reached forward, obviously wanting to snuggle with her mother, and Tony eyed Ziva cautiously.

Ziva scooted over slightly as she lay back down, patting the bed beside her, saying, “Set her down, Tony, and let us take a nap.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not putting the baby down just yet. If Ziva was really not feeling that well, it might not be a good idea to keep Tali next to her, lest she get sick as well.

“I am pregnant, not contagious,” she muttered exasperatedly, and Tony relented. Tali started to rub her eyes as she continued to lean forward, obviously wanting to snuggle up with her mother. Tony set her down next to Ziva, and the little girl rolled over to coo at her mother, who wrapped her arm around her daughter protectively. “We will be fine here, Tony,” she said with a yawn, clearly exhausted from the toll this pregnancy had been taking on her.

“I’ll be just outside fishing, if you need anything.”

The next thing Ziva was aware of was the tiny hand patting her face. Had Tali any real strength, they might have been considered slaps, but it was nothing more than a babyish exploration of the world. She wondered how long Tali had been awake, but the baby hadn’t cried at all and seemed content to just look at her and pat her cheek until she woke up.

Motherhood certainly had its moments. “Are you hungry, little one?” Ziva cooed, stifling a yawn. She still wasn’t feeling energized enough to get up out of bed, but Tali didn’t seem to mind, and when Ziva lifted up her shirt, Tali adjusted herself and began to suck, and soon Ziva had drifted off to sleep again, her daughter sucking comfortably away as she began to snore.

That was how Tony found them not much later, Ziva with her shirt hiked up so that her breasts were exposed, and Tali snuggled against her and enjoying her meal. Ziva didn’t even stir as Tony came in, which was especially unusual considering how light a sleeper she had always been. He was definitely beginning to become concerned.

The first pregnancy had been easy, and Ziva had done as she always had, hardly accounting for her growing stomach at all. She’d had no real sickness, no exhaustion… nothing. It hardly surprised him, considering he could count the amount of times Ziva had been sick over the past decade on two fingers, so to see her like this was especially concerning.

Tali began to fuss a little, and it was clear to Tony that she was done, so he gathered her up in his arms, pulling Ziva’s shirt down for modesty’s sake – not that there was anyone in the vicinity who hadn’t already seen it, it just didn’t seem decent to leave her boob just hanging out like that.

He set Tali down and worked to clean up her now soiled diaper, noting as he did so that they were running low on clean ones. He’d have to wash some, which would prove challenging if Ziva wasn’t up to watching Tali for a little while, but he supposed he’d just have to wait for her to nap again and take care of it then.

Once he got the baby cleaned up, he took her outside, wanting to leave Ziva alone to sleep. If she was that tired, it was the best thing he could do for her, and her body obviously needed the rest. He didn’t know for sure, but it had to be exhausting doing all that work of creating an actual human. Hell, he got tired sometimes just doing the regular chores.

He took Tali for a walk, carrying her down the stream with him, letting her down when she began to squirm in his arms. Tony sat on the ground with her as she explored, stopping her from putting things in her mouth but otherwise allowing her to get dirty and play with the world around her. She picked up a leaf in her chubby fist and held it out to him, and when he took it from her, he said animatedly, “It’s beautiful!” Tali giggled with delight, and he couldn’t suppress his own laughter as she discovered the world.

She crawled toward the water and he followed close behind her, watching as she tentatively dipped her hand into the stream, then lifted her hand up, looking at it in wonder. She’d had baths before, of course, but she’d never been given the chance to explore the bank of the stream where water met land, and she was enthralled by what she found, crawling forward and face down into the water with a splash.

Tony was there in an instant to pick her up, trying not to laugh with amusement as she scrunched up her face and spit out the water, patting her face and trying to dry her eyes unsuccessfully. Tony lifted his shirt up just enough to dry her off, and Tali began to babble happily in her baby language, and Tony responded back with simple phrases. “Yeah! I know!” he said when she finished what she was saying, and he laughed when she did.

He couldn’t imagine loving anything or anyone more than he did this little girl in this moment.

“Come on, Tali, let’s go and check on your mama,” he said, turning back toward the house and following the stream.

“Ba boo ba boo,” was all Tali said, still working at forming actual words, but he knew that eventually her babbling would evolve.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the house, and he stepped inside with Tali, surprised to see that Ziva was sitting up, though she didn’t seem to be too keen on getting out of bed at the moment. She appeared to be less pale than earlier, but she still didn’t look like herself just yet.

“There you are,” she said softly, her chest heaving as she sighed with relief. She must have left the cabin – possibly to go to the bathroom – and found that they weren’t right outside.

“We took a walk, isn’t that right, Tali?” he asked, leaning in and bumping his head against hers, making her giggle.

“Boo ma doh,” was all Tali said, and Tony set her down, allowing her to have her playtime in the cabin. She wasn’t walking just yet, but she’d become an expert at crawling, her fat hands padding heavily against the stone floor as she scooted quickly around the room. Ziva smiled slightly as she watched their daughter explore, wishing for all the world that she felt well enough to get down on the floor and crawl around behind her for a bit, but Tali didn’t seem to mind at all, so she tried not to let herself feel guilty about it.

Soon enough she was sitting up on Tony’s lap and he had given her some small pieces of well-cut fish, and she was happily chowing away. She’d not been on solid foods for very long and she still enjoyed the comfort of breastfeeding, so after she’d finished what small amount of food she wanted, Tony carried her over to Ziva, who nursed her as she drifted off to sleep.

It was morning when Ziva woke up again feeling much more energetic, and so she got up and stepped outside, reveling in the scent of the fresh air, which she’d hardly enjoyed over the past few days. It seemed that everything – every scent, every breeze, every noise – set her stomach off, and for the first time in days she relished in the feeling of being able to enjoy life without worrying about whether or not she’d have to throw up.

She decided to take advantage of it and stepped into the house to grab her bow and arrows. Tali was still fast asleep and Tony could feed her something when she woke up, but she desperately wanted to go out and hunt. Perhaps the thrill of the hunt would make her feel more invigorated than she’d been feeling lately.

Just as she was about to step outside the house, Tali began to stir, and so she set the bow and arrows down and walked over to where she’d been sleeping and picked her up, sitting back on the bed to take care of feeding her. This early in the morning Tali almost always wanted the comfort of breastfeeding anyway, and the thought that she could have left without feeding her made Ziva feel slightly guilty, but she’d been _so_ eager to get back out and be productive again while feeling better lasted.

Tony, too, was waking up and Ziva had to stifle a groan at her luck, despite knowing that she should at least let him know where she was going, lest he be forced to go through a similar ordeal to the one she’d undergone when he’d hurt his foot.

She was being selfish, and she knew it.

Once Tony was finally awake, she motioned to the bow she’d set down on the table. “I am feeling better this morning, and I had planned on going out hunting. I am getting a little tired of eating fish.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, rubbing his eyes to wipe away the last remnants of sleepiness. “You were barely able to get out of bed yesterday.”

Ziva glared at him, her anger rising. “And today I am,” she said through gritted teeth. She didn’t know why she was getting so defensive, after all, he was right, but what had happened yesterday shouldn’t matter when she felt perfectly fine _now._

Tony simply stared at her, exasperated, but didn’t otherwise respond. Ziva could be incredibly stubborn to the detriment of her own well-being, and arguing with her in this state was completely pointless. He tried not to let his aggravation show, but he was certain he was doing a terrible job at it, because Ziva kept talking, explaining her case. “I am tired of being cooped up in this place, Tony. I feel as if I have been staring at these walls forever. I need to get outside again. I won’t even be that long. I just need this,” she concluded, picking up the bow again and stepping swiftly to the door, pausing only when Tony called to her.

“Wait,” was all he said, and she turned around slowly, her gaze narrowed to what he could only describe as pure ire. “Take some water and vegetables with you at least.”

“I’m not going to be gone that long,” she seethed, and Tony almost withdrew.

Almost. “Just humor me, all right?”

Heaving a deep sigh – and making a big show of making this concession – Ziva reached for a bottle of water and a handful of vegetables, sticking them both in a small pouch and slinging it over her shoulder. “Anything else?”

Tony merely shook his head, unwilling to piss her off any further. Tali, oblivious to this exchange, was happily munching on peas and babbling to herself, and she only even noticed that Ziva was gone when the door slammed behind her loudly, causing the ones Ziva had left behind to jump.

He sighed, but there was no use in putting on a sour face for Tali, so he settled down with her on the floor, pulling out some things from his backpack and laying them out on the floor, pointing out the colors to her. She was too young to retain any of it, but he was a firm believer that it was never too early to start teaching her things.

Outside, Ziva marched angrily through the forest at first, then took a few deep breaths and started to walk more calmly, realizing that if she planned to actually hunt something, she’d have to be much more subdued as she moved through the woods. _He is only concerned,_ she reminded herself, but she scowled at the thought as it struck her. She wasn’t a baby and she could take care of herself.

Drawing in a deep breath, she continued to walk carefully through the forest, watching closely where she stepped so that she wouldn’t unnecessarily disturb anything as she moved, making it less likely that anything would detect her presence. It was hot out and she was beginning to sweat, but she blew a breath up and across her face which seemed to do the trick, at least for a few seconds.

She kept moving forward, but she was beginning to feel even more overheated than before, but it seemed to be nearing that time of year and the humidity was at its peak when the sun was out. Thinking nothing of it, she continued forward, stopping only to wipe her brow when she was sweating so much that it had begun to fall from her hair into her eyes.

This much sweat was a tad unusual, and she stopped for a second, taking out the water bottle that Tony had insisted she bring. The water was only slightly cool but it didn’t matter much, as she opened up the cap and took a swig. Gasping as she began to feel refreshed, she put the cap back on and stuffed it back in her pouch, continuing forward, her bow hanging comfortably over her shoulder.

Suddenly she felt another rush of heat and her face began to feel extremely tight and warm, almost as though the muscles in her face had fallen asleep. Her vision began to blur and quickly she sat down, slumping against a big tree and wondering if she was about to pass out. She concentrated on breathing deeply as she reached again for her water bottle.

Ziva was feeling extremely lightheaded at this point and almost couldn’t open the water bottle because she was so disoriented. _Maybe I should just lay down and let it happen,_ she thought to herself, wondering if she would pass out and then wake up once the blood returned to her head.

She didn’t have the chance to decide, for the next thing she knew, she was waking up from what felt like a deep sleep, her nose being tickled by something. When she opened her eyes, she saw foliage in front of her, and she blinked a few times, thinking she must still be half asleep. It was only after a few seconds that she realized what had just happened.

She’d passed out, right here in the middle of the rainforest, and she had no earthly idea for how long.

Sitting up slowly, she reached for the water bottle that she’d been unsuccessful in opening – luckily, since it would have spilled – and sipped slowly, hoping that hydration would help her feel well enough to make her way back home. She would take it slow and take frequent breaks if she needed to, but she needed to get back. She tilted her head up and looked at the position of the sun, certain it hadn’t gone too far since she’d been out, and determined that if she’d passed out, it hadn’t been for long.

“Oh god,” she finally breathed, feeling tears beginning to well up. “Stop,” she admonished herself, knowing that crying would only dehydrate her, and dehydration was the last thing she needed right now.

Looking around, she found her bow, and checked the ground to see if anything else had fallen. All of her arrows still appeared to be in the quiver on her back, so she started to walk slowly back to the house, sitting when necessary.

She didn’t know how long she’d been gone, but Tony was waiting for her on a tree stump when she got back and Tali was nowhere in sight. “She’s asleep,” he said softly, his voice wavering slightly as if overcome with emotion.

When Ziva didn’t say anything right away, he stood up and walked to her, taking the bow from her hand and setting it down before pulling her into a hug. “You walked out of here so angry and I couldn’t help worrying about you, and you’ve been gone for a while, Ziva. I can see that you had no luck, did you see anything at all?”

“No,” she replied, drawing in a breath and taking his hand, leading him back to the stump to sit down. “I am sorry about earlier,” she said, looking him in the eye and squeezing his hand gently. “I did not want to believe that I was incapable of doing this one thing to provide for our family, but you were right. I am not well.”

Tony drew in a sharp breath, his eyes immediately clouding with worry. “What happened?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them and meeting his gaze again. “I passed out.” His eyes widened and she continued. “I started to feel very hot and uncomfortable, and I took a sip of water, but then I was sitting down on the ground wondering why I felt so lightheaded and the next thing I knew, I woke up on the ground wondering why a leaf was tickling my nose.”

He looked stricken, but she kept going, needing to tell him everything. “Once I took a few more sips of water and I felt comfortable getting up again, I decided immediately that I needed to come back home, but I wanted to take it slowly and not overdo it. I couldn’t exactly call you to come pick me up, so I stopped every so often to rest and take a sip of water.”

Ziva squeezed his hand again. “Thank you for making me bring it with me. You were right, Tony. I should not have gone. I am trying to do too much and I am willing to let you help me now, and I am sorry.”

He closed his eyes, letting her apology wash over him, then leaned forward so their foreheads were touching, reaching up to touch her cheek gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Ziva.” With his free hand, he touched the side of her belly, where the new baby lay in wait. “I just want you both to be safe. Promise me you won’t overdo it anymore,” he begged, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Just seeing his tears started her own, and soon Tony was wiping them from her cheek, kissing her gently. “None of that, my love. Everything will be fine. I just want to take care of you, so please let me.”

Nodding through her tears, Ziva leaned forward to softly meet his lips. “Okay,” she agreed, kissing him again and accepting the small comfort he was giving her, from the hand that was wiping away her tears to the hand that was cradling their child. “I don’t want anything to happen to her,” she said softly, and he couldn’t hide his amusement.

“Her?”

Wiping her tears away with a giggle, she nodded slightly. “I was right the first time,” she said, and he couldn’t help the teasing grin that spread across his face.

“I’m sure that she – or he – will be fine,” he began, his expression turning serious again, “as long as you agree to let me take care of you when I can, honey.”

“Okay,” she said again, finally allowing herself to trust in him completely that all of their needs would be met. Maybe the stress of running, of hiding, of building a life out here, of motherhood, and of pregnancy had all just reached a point where it had become too much, and maybe she didn’t always need to do it all. This was her body telling her that she was trying to do too many things. It was finally time for her to let go of all of the control. “I trust you, Tony, and I know you will take good care of us.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he replied, and he drew her in close for a hug, where her tears started anew, and for once, he was content to let her simply cry it out on his shoulder as he held her close, feeling that their relationship had just grown that much stronger for it.

Because now he knew that she trusted him fully, where he had been certain that for the longest time, she’d been holding back. Not because she didn’t trust him, necessarily, but because she didn’t trust herself to let go of control. As he held her in his arms, he vowed to himself that he would never allow her to regret that decision for as long as he lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look for Chapter 22 on Monday.


	22. Not Her Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While worries and fears loom in the background, Tony and Ziva spend some quality time as a family. Enjoy this lighter chapter, as things become a bit heavier from here on out.

 

Ziva sat up with a burst of energy, and for the first time in months, no overwhelming feelings of nausea. Perhaps the worst of the morning sickness had finally passed. Tali was still sleeping soundly in her crib, and Tony was snoring loudly, his face toward the wall of as she slid silently out of bed.

She began to dress quickly, throwing on a simple cotton shirt that would keep her from sweating too much, and scanned the room for the crossbow. It had been far too long since she’d been out on the hunt, and she was dying to go out and feel the air expanding her lungs as she walked briskly through the forest.

Picking up the new quiver that Tony had made for all of their crossbow bolts, Ziva leaned over and checked on the baby one more time. Tali was getting bigger, and so was this new baby. It wouldn’t be long before they’d need to consider making another bed. They had no real idea how long they’d been away from civilization before they’d begun counting after Tali’s birth, but time still moved too swiftly, something she’d never put a thought to until she had her own child, growing up far too rapidly for her own liking.

A tear rolled down her cheek at the idea. Her baby wasn’t quite a baby anymore, and her heart twisted at the thought. They’d never have baby pictures of Tali, even if they returned to the world, and although Ziva definitely treasured every moment, these memories would never be cataloged the way she would have liked.

 _I am being so sentimental,_ she chided herself, wiping the tear from her face. There was simply no room to think about all of the “what-ifs” and “what could have beens.” She’d given little thought to Widow in a while, but she doubted that it was safe enough to plan their return. Still, it wasn’t a terrible thing to be bothered by the fact that she’d never have baby pictures of her children.

“Going out?” Tony interrupted her musings, his hair disheveled as he worked his way out from underneath the tangled mess of bedding. She stole a glance at Tali, noting that the child was starting to stir, and deflated slightly at the loss of her walk.

“I had wanted to go hunting,” she responded wistfully, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tony crossed to her, looking down into Tali’s crib as the child stretched for a moment, cracking one eye open and then shutting it again, resisting the pull of wakefulness. “You’re feeling better?”

“Obviously.” She hadn’t meant to be short with him, but the word came out far more sharply than she would have liked. If Tony noticed, however, he didn’t say anything.

“Is it really a good idea for you to go out by yourself again? I mean, after what happened last time, I’m not really sure that you should go out wandering through the forest.”

Ziva seethed, narrowing her eyes at him and resisting every last impulse not to hit him, _hard._ “I told you that because I knew you would want to know,” she began through gritted teeth, “ _not_ because I thought you would hold it against me whenever I wanted to go out.” Did she have to remind him that she’d been perfectly fine throughout the last pregnancy and she hadn’t needed him to coddle her like a child? Tony’s eyes widened and he backed away, realizing the exact nature of his mistake.

“I’m not trying to hold it against you at all,” he croaked, taking another step backward, lest she decide that a demonstration of her agility was in order. Pregnant or not, he was pretty certain Ziva could easily put his lights out, and while he hoped that she didn’t want to raise their kids alone, he wasn’t stupid enough to push her to the point where she felt like killing him was an option. “Just…” she narrowed her eyes, looking for a moment like she might leap at him. “Maybe we should all go, and you can hunt, and I’ll feel better knowing that I can protect you. Not that you need my protection,” he added quickly, “but because I need to know that I’m protecting you.”

She took a deep breath, ordering herself to calm down. Tony did not mean to insult her or otherwise insinuate that she was incapable, he just wanted to be there for her, for his own peace of mind, especially after what had happened before. “All right,” she agreed. Tali had woken up and was now babbling quietly to herself, and Ziva leaned down and picked her up, handing her over Tony. “You’re on diaper duty,” she instructed, and Tony decided that he deserved it. He carried her outside and got her cleaned up.

When he’d finished, Tony handed Tali back over to Ziva and allowed her to feed the baby. He assumed that she would not want both of the babies to be nursing at the same time and that they’d have to get Tali used to eating something else in the mornings soon enough, but for now, Ziva seemed content to enjoy this intimacy with their child. Her eyes clouded over slightly as she brushed Tali’s hair from her face, and Tony wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as he was.

Their first child was already growing so fast, and they still did not even know what day she had been born. They had no photographs, no videos. Neither he nor Ziva could really draw, and even if they could, they had nothing with which to draw anyway. Tali would grow up and there would be no memories of her as a baby except for the ones that he and Ziva kept in their minds.

If it bothered him, then it must be _killing_ her.

Shaking his head, he tried not to dwell too much on it. There was nothing either of them could do about it now. Ziva was busy gathering both of the weapons while he kept Tali entertained, delighting in her laughter as he played peek-a-boo with her.

When Ziva was ready to go, he helped get Tali situated in the sling. Now that she was growing, she wouldn’t lay down in the sling, which had been adjusted to accommodate her growth. Now, Tali would fit in the sling sitting up, her legs astride Ziva’s torso, which allowed her to either snuggle into her mother’s chest or turn and survey the scenery as they walked.

She wasn’t talking yet, but Tony had always been mindful to point things out to Tali, so that she would hear as much language as possible. Last time they’d gone out, he pointed out a bird to her, and Tali had pointed too, much to Tony’s delight.

“Okay, Tali,” Ziva began once she was secured snugly in the sling. “We’re going hunting, my little bear. We’re gonna need to be quiet, okay?”

Tali said nothing, merely gazing up at her mother with wide eyes. She always seemed calmer whenever Ziva carried her, which would come to be more of a challenge in the coming months as she grew larger with pregnancy. Hopefully, Tali would start to become a little bit more attached to her father.

“You know, we’re gonna have to teach her to hunt when she’s old enough,” Tony mused, walking behind Ziva carrying the bow slung loosely over his right arm.

“She can barely walk.”

“I know that, but she’s gonna have to learn eventually. We might as well start teaching her weapon safety at a young age, so we know that she’ll be responsible when she’s finally allowed to handle them.” He paused for a second, stopping to collect his thoughts before continuing. “We would have done the exact same thing with her and guns, if we were back in DC, you know.”

Ziva agreed with that. As soon as Tali was old enough to understand boundaries, they would have taught her about gun safety. It would have started, at first, with her being taught never to touch them at all, and then when she reached the age where she would understand about death well enough to be able to conceptualize what a weapon was, they would teach her how to safely handle a gun. They’d teach her to treat every gun like it was loaded, and to never, _ever_ point a gun at something she didn’t want to destroy, even if she was _sure_ the gun wasn’t loaded.

Now, they’d be teaching her about arrow safety, and definitely about knives. Ziva smirked inwardly at that. She would have taught Tali about knives regardless of where in the world they were. Knives were, after all, one of her favorite things, and she always had an abundance of them.

Tony stopped short, and Ziva was broken from her reverie as she caught sight of what Tony had stopped for. There was a small deer, not terribly unlike the white-tails back home, and it stood seemingly staring at them through the brush. Slowly, Tony lifted the bow off his shoulder, being careful not to make any sudden movements, and both Ziva and Tali watched as he drew an arrow, nocked it, and finally fired, swiftly killing the deer. Tali made not a peep but merely watched all of this unfold, not understanding what had happened but somehow sensing that she didn’t have to be afraid.

Ziva didn’t feel any resentment toward Tony for being the one to actually make the kill, as she wasn’t into hunting for the sport of it, just for the use of the resources that the animals could provide. It had been more about the walk, the feeling of the weapon in her hands as she carefully made her way through the forest. That much she’d accomplished with him by her side.

Tony didn’t take too long to remove the entrails from the deer and soon he was turning to drag it back to their house. “She didn’t even flinch,” Tony pointed out, indicating Tali’s reaction to hunting. Ziva had noticed that, as well.

“Maybe she will be an expert hunter then,” Ziva mused with a slight smile. It hadn’t exactly been something she’d always dreamed of teaching her daughter, at least not at this young age. She’d envisioned teaching her about weaponry, of course, but probably when she was quite a few years older. But this lifestyle had given them new goals and necessities, so teaching Tali to hunt when she was able would be to their benefit.

The fact that she was planning for what could possibly be many years here, in the isolation of the deep forest, didn’t even register anymore. This was simply their life. “Ba ba ba,” Tali cooed, and although it didn’t mean anything, Ziva repeated it, talking to her daughter in her own language.

“Ba ba ba,” Ziva said, smiling, but her expression turned cloudy after a few moments. What if teaching Tali to hunt turned into teaching Tali to defend against terrorists? No matter where or with whom she had children, Ziva did not want her kids to have to fight against the horrors she’d known all her life. She had wanted better for them.

“What?” Tony said, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment and then turning back to Tali, who was happily playing with her mother’s hair.

“Will we have to teach her to defend herself against Widow?”

Tony ran his hand through his hair, taking a surprised sigh. He hadn’t considered that, and now it was a new worry to add to the growing list of them. It seemed that his worries grew at approximately the same rate as Tali. Every day, there was something new to fear when it came to the safety of his girl.

“I don’t think we’ll be out here that long, Ziva. We just have to have faith. I’m sure that the team is back home trying to take care of Widow so they won’t be after us anymore. They wouldn’t just let them be, especially if they know we’re out here somewhere,” he said, trying to reassure her. In truth, he didn’t know if the team was working on their case. The entire reason they’d run instead of stayed behind to fight the threat head on had been the fact that they weren’t agents anymore. Would Gibbs and McGee be able to do much? Would Vance allow them to investigate a case that centered on two people who technically weren’t military or agency related?

He didn’t speak his fears out loud, though, since he didn’t want to worry her further, but Ziva sensed it anyway. “What?” she asked, a whisper against his skin, and he shuddered at the way her lips teased there, despite the embrace not being sexual in any way.

“I just wonder if their hands are sort of tied,” he said, not needing to explain any further. Ziva drew back from the embrace, holding his arms in her hands, and she sensed his meaning without any further elaboration.

“Widow will not hide underground, Tony. They have definitely made contact with NCIS by now. I would not be surprised if they made contact with Mossad, as well. They will assume that someone knows where we have gone and try to draw out that information. They have probably even made threats, which puts it right into NCIS jurisdiction despite our status being… unclear.”

“Well that’s comforting,” he muttered, thinking now about how the threat had shifted not just upon themselves, but on everyone else they cared for.

It was Ziva’s turn to be reassuring. “They will be all right. They have many more resources at their disposal than we do, and while Widow might threaten, I doubt they will do much more than that.” Tony mulled over that for a while, deciding that she was probably right. After all, NCIS wasn’t really their target. _Ziva_ was.

Still, that didn’t really comfort him, though he knew that she was right. While Tali continued to play, they shared a look and an understanding passed between them. Tali would not know the same threats that they had lived with, and no matter what happened, she would never need to fight the way her parents had.

* * *

Ziva’s arm tightened around Tali as she woke to a rhythmic sound coming from outside the house, one that she couldn’t quite place without investigating. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Tony was no longer in bed. Tali was still fast asleep, but she couldn’t be left alone on the bed quite yet, so Ziva picked her up gingerly and carried her to her basket, where she barely stirred before falling back to sleep.

She wondered where Tali was going to sleep when this baby came, and made a mental note to talk to Tony about that once she found out what he was up to. Propping the window open so that she could hear Tali if she started to cry, Ziva stepped outside and saw Tony, bent over a small log pile, sawing away methodically.

Tony had built what appeared to be the beginnings of a crib, a much larger place for Tali to sleep, as she was soon to outgrow the basket he’d woven for her before she was born.

Not to mention the new baby, who would be born sooner than either of them were really ready for. Being pregnant this time had been much more difficult, with the sickness lasting much longer, but she felt much less anxiety this time around, now that she knew what to expect of the entire process.

“Good morning,” Ziva murmured from behind Tony, and he turned mid-cut, greeting her with that grin she’d loved for so long.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly, looking as though he was embarrassed to be caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. “I had wanted to finish this before you woke up today,” he explained, shrugging lightly as he set the saw down, wiping his hands on his shorts and giving her a kiss.

“It is like you read my mind,” she said, motioning to the crib he was building. Tali was far too young yet to have a bed, but this would be perfect for her, once Tony finished getting it put together. Even when she got to the point where she’d be too old for a crib, they could find a way to modify it into a toddler bed. “I’d say you’re turning into a regular handyman,” she added with a smile.

“Don’t tell Gibbs,” he joked, and she laughed, walking back into the house to get a bottle of water, taking a sip of it before walking back outside and handing it to him. She made a note to herself that they would have to refill some bottles today, as they were running low on their supply of water in the house. Not that it was a terribly big deal, what with the stream so close by, but they had no way of knowing when storms were likely, and it was better to be prepared with full water bottles than to be stuck running out in bad weather to resupply.

“How do you think she will take to it?” Ziva knew that Tali would have to move into another bed whether she wanted to or not, and the basket she’d been sleeping in was already not quite big enough for her as she continued to grow. Still, she worried that the toddler would struggle to adjust to the new surroundings.

Tony shrugged, putting down the saw and then taking a swig of the water. “I was more worried about where we’re gonna put her.”

Ziva blanched. They hadn’t exactly anticipated that there would ever be more than the two of them living in their cabin when they’d initially constructed it. It wasn’t like they could just build an addition to the house. “Maybe you should be building a bunk bed,” she joked.

“She’s already exhibiting some of your ninja tendencies,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. Tali’s proclivity towards climbing made him even more nervous than Ziva’s own fearlessness of heights. “If I make her a bunk bed, she’ll be climbing out of it and getting herself in all sorts of Spiderman trouble in less than a week.”

“I am _not_ Spiderman.” Ziva feigned offense, though that was one of the games they played. Tony knew how much it rankled her to be compared to some comic book hero, particularly the scantily clad females. “I would never be caught dead in spandex.”

A strange look passed over Tony’s face, but before he could hide his expression, realization dawned on her. “You have worn spandex.”

“Ziva, it was the eighties. _Everyone_ wore spandex.”

She threw her head back and groaned before she spoke again, rubbing her forehead in dismay. “Oh _god,_ Tony. That is one mental image I never knew that I didn’t need.”

“I’ll have you know, I was very attractive in those spandex.” He pointed as he spoke, as though he was trying especially hard to make his point. Everyone had made some questionable fashion choices in their life, and with a bit of prodding, he could probably uncover some of Ziva’s fashion tragedies. At this point, she was rather glad that they didn’t have to concern themselves with fashion and that they simply wore what was functional for survival.

She looked him up and down, noting the way his shorts hung just at his hips, accentuating his bare arms as he worked with the tools. This kind of clothing had its advantages. “Well, it could not be any worse than the Saturday Night Fever getup you put on for that one woman.”

Tony stared for a moment, lost in thought. “Yeah,” he began, his voice sounding distant. “I don’t know why I felt that I needed to do that.” If he’d been honest with himself at the time, he would have realized that he was only doing the costume thing to please that random woman because he wanted to prove that he was willing to be a different person, if that’s what it took to find happiness. He realized now that if he hadn’t been so stupid he might have figured out that Ziva had been right there the entire time, and that she neither needed nor wanted him to change who he was. She never had.

He had been a complete idiot back then.

If Ziva noticed the way he had gotten lost in the memories of his embarrassing past, she didn’t show it as she merely responded, “Neither do I.”

“Not my best moment,” he added sheepishly.

“That is an understatement.” Before she could ridicule him any further, Tali called for her from inside the house. Ziva was still nursing first thing in the morning, but as Tali was now a toddler, she was breastfeeding less and less, which was probably a good thing, considering the new baby about to arrive shortly. They’d been trying to wean her, but first thing in the morning the baby wanted the comfort that nursing provided and Ziva was loathe to deny her daughter anything.

And it wasn’t like there was anyone there to tell her that she _shouldn’t_ breastfeed her child. Whatever opinions either she or Tony may have had prior to having left everything they’d known behind were moot, and the added bonus of raising children away from prying eyes was that they didn’t have to deal with mountains of unsolicited parenting advice.

“Okay, Tali, up you go,” Ziva cooed as she picked Tali up from where she was sitting on the floor, waiting by the door. The door was far too heavy for Tali to move it on her own, and so she would often crawl to it and wait for one of her parents if she wanted to go outside, whether they were in the house or not.

Tali patted her mother’s chest as a way of signaling what she wanted, and Ziva carried her outside to watch Tony as he continued to work, lifting up her shirt and letting Tali settle against her chest, as well as she could with the way they were seated. Log benches didn’t exactly make it easy to lean back and get comfortable.

Tony had stopped working momentarily to come and tease his fingers through Tali’s hair, noting with a smirk how Ziva had struggled to get her to nurse now that she was older and much more squirmy. He wondered how she would nurse when her belly got to be in the way of nursing. “Do you think she understands when we tell her there’s going to be a baby?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured quietly, shifting slightly so as to find a more comfortable position. Most days, she would lie down on the bed and allow Tali to nurse that way, because it was much easier. The weather was lovely though, and she really wanted to enjoy the cool breeze and the sight of her husband hard at work. There was something so attractive about the way his muscles flexed with every stroke of the saw, his skin glistening with sweat as he worked.

She shivered at the thought of it before remembering that Tali was awake and at her breast. Those thoughts would have to wait until later. Ziva wondered briefly if there would ever be a time when she stopped finding him attractive, because it seemed like her attraction to him only increased with time. The fact that they nearly had two children could attest to that.

When Tali was finished, she sat up and looked at her father, watching him intently. She babbled a little as she pointed at her father, and he turned and smiled at her before turning around and sawing again. “Dada’s making a bed for you, pumpkin,” Ziva said animatedly, and Tali turned and stared at her, her eyes wide and inquisitive. She had no idea, of course, what Ziva was even talking about, but that didn’t stop Ziva from wanting to tell her everything anyway.

Just then, Tony dropped the saw, jumping out of the way just in time to prevent nicking his foot with it, cursing loudly at his own clumsiness. “Tony!”

He had the good grace to look chastised, for neither he nor Ziva had wanted to expose Tali to any unsavory language. It was unlikely that she’d remember the word for later, but it was better to get in the habit of keeping the cursing to a minimum whenever possible. “The damn thing slipped out of my hand and nearly sawed my foot off,” he explained, and then bit his lip with a grimace as he realized that he had cursed _again._

“Come on, Tali, let’s go for a little walk together while your Abba cools off, shall we?” Tali, of course, said nothing, but clung tightly to her mother as she picked her up and headed off down the stream, pointing out the pretty things she saw as she went. Tony stood and watched as they went, Ziva, only starting to be visibly pregnant, walking slowly through the jungle with Tali at her hip.

 _God,_ he loved that woman.

It wasn’t very long before they got back, and he’d made progress on the crib without any further mishaps. Still, Ziva elected to keep Tali away from his workspace lest he run into any additional issues, and he tried not to get distracted by the sounds of her squeals as she played in the stream with Ziva close by. The day _had_ grown to be a hot one, and Tony was beginning to think that he should take a break to cool off, despite the fact that he was nearly done.

“I gotta finish this thing first,” he said to himself, and set back to work. The crib really was starting to look pretty great, if he said so himself. He’d never thought to take any kind of woodworking lessons from the man he’d called his boss for so many years, but he really hadn’t needed them, if his handiwork was anything to go by.

It wasn’t very long before he had the crib completely done and ready for use. He tested its sturdiness by pushing against it with his hand, making sure that a little weight wouldn’t cause it to come tumbling down. The last thing either he or Ziva wanted was for a crib keeping their daughter to fall apart beneath her weight. Satisfied that the crib would hold up, he took it into the house, finding the one empty spot against the wall where he could put it, regretting that they hadn’t thought to make their house even a little bit bigger.

They had been prepared for _so_ many things, but Tali was one possibility neither of them had _ever_ foreseen. Ziva and children were both things he had always wanted, but considering they’d mainly been running from a group of terrorists hadn’t exactly been thinking about any such possibility. If anything, he’d have thought it even more unlikely that they’d find each other, given the nature of how they’d run off in such a hurry.

Tali was running in and out of the stream, and Tony watched as Ziva chased after her, noticing how she never allowed her pregnancy to slow her down – at least not outwardly. Tony could tell, however, that chasing Tali around was a lot more exhausting to her in this state. Tali had gotten a lot faster, too, ever since she’d started taking those unsteady steps in their cabin. He’d had to chase after her a few times, as well. It was likely that Tali had inherited her mother’s speed.

He made his way to the stream, intercepting a sprinting Tali and swooping her off the ground, causing her to erupt in a fit of laughter as he swung her up over his shoulder, asking, “Where do you think you’re going, munchkin?”

“Wa wa ma ba,” she cooed, still more content to speak her own version of language than to always assimilate to the way that her parents spoke. There didn’t seem to be any harm in it, as Tali really only had a dozen words. 

“Going to the water? Is that what you said, Tali?” he asked, tickling her tummy and delighting in the way she squealed with laughter. Ziva watched as they played, glad for Tony’s assistance. She didn’t remember being this tired when she was pregnant with Tali, but she also hadn’t already had a toddler to chase after while being pregnant the first time.

Ziva stepped carefully out of the stream, sliding the shoes that she’d taken off back onto her feet and following Tony back to the house. Judging by the amount of light in the sky, it was nearing evening. They’d have something to eat and then get Tali settled and in bed, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be a battle getting Tali to sleep in the new crib.

When it was time to put Tali to bed, Ziva tried not to make a big deal about putting Tali to bed in a new place in the hopes that she wouldn’t even notice and would sleep easily. She suspected that the real struggle would be in the morning when she couldn’t just climb out of it, as Tali had grown accustomed to rolling out of her basket and walking up to her parents to play rather than waiting for them to come to her.

“I like how high you’ve made the sides of this thing,” Ziva commented with a smirk as she bent down, setting Tali down in the crib and drawing the lionskin blanket over her sleeping form. It probably wouldn’t always be this easy to get her to go to bed, but it was fine to celebrate small victories when they came.

“Well, like I said. Ninja.” He shrugged as though it was obvious, and perhaps it really was. The harder it was for Tali to escape something, the better, as that way they knew they’d be able to protect her. They had a gate for the door and a heavy latch, but they didn’t want to take any chances.

Ziva smiled, standing over Tali as she slept, watching as she breathed deeply for several long moments. She hadn’t known it was possible to love her as much as she did, but every day she felt as though she loved her even more than the previous day. “Good night, my precious lamb,” Ziva whispered, kissing the tips of her fingers and reaching down to pat Tali’s head, as she was unable to bend all the way over the side of the crib to kiss her goodnight properly. Tali didn’t stir, and soon Tony joined her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently against him as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“How did we make something so beautiful?” he wondered aloud, and Ziva smiled to herself, marveling at how Tony had a way of vocalizing what she’d been thinking at any given point in time.

“Because she’s born of love,” she responded, turning to kiss him gently before pulling him by the hand and leading him to the bed, sliding under the covers and snuggling against his warm embrace as he held her in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 23 is coming on Friday - look for it!


	23. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite trying their best to live their lives as normally as possible, the ever-looming threat is starting to weigh on both Tony and Ziva. Meanwhile, Widow has hatched a plan that seems to lead them ever-closer to finding them.

“Tony,” Ziva called to him from outside the house, and immediately he dropped what he was doing and went to her. Was something wrong? He glanced back to make sure that Tali was still sleeping and latched the door behind him, finding Ziva standing over the portion of rock they’d started using as a makeshift calendar.

“What’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

“It’s just…” He didn’t finish his statement, knowing better than to argue when she looked at him like that. Ziva had softened considerably with motherhood, but she was still just as capable of murdering him as she’d always been. 

As if she read his thoughts, her scowl disappeared. “You worry too much, my love.”

He smirked to himself. That much was true, and again he didn’t argue. “Well, what is it?”

“Count this with me, and make sure I have counted correctly. Tell me how many days it has been,” she instructed, pointing down at the crude markings on the ground. He stepped forward and began to count by fives.

“Three sixty-four,” he said after a few minutes, and Ziva nodded at him.

“That’s what I count, too. Tali will be one year old tomorrow.”

Had it really been a year? Granted, Tali was walking already – practically running at this point – but he couldn’t believe it had really been that long. Time really did fly. “We should celebrate,” he said, unable to hide the grin that began to form. Their daughter was going to be a year old.

Ziva sighed impatiently, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’ll head on over to the supermarket and pick up a cake, and you should go to Party City and pick up the streamers.”

She winced as soon as the words came out of her mouth, but she hadn’t meant to sound so irritated. None of this was his fault, after all. Tony didn’t comment on her tone, however, deciding that to argue about this now – or ever – would not end well for him. She was, after all, pregnant and _very_ deadly. He wondered if she was even more deadly now that she was pregnant.

Tony pushed that thought out of his mind. Ziva probably wouldn’t kill him today. _Probably._ “We don’t need to have a cake and streamers to celebrate our daughter’s birthday, Ziva.”

“I know that,” she said with a heavy sigh, visibly deflating. “This just…”

“Isn’t what you envisioned,” he finished. They’d had this conversation so many times before. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth celebrating,” he offered, and she let out a puff of air as she sat down upon a nearby stump.

“Do you think counting the days is making anything better?” She didn’t give him the chance to respond before she spoke again. “It seems like we’re just watching time go by without a clear end in mind, Tony. When will it end? When can we go home?”

As quickly as she had become annoyed with him earlier, she was now getting emotional, and he almost had to laugh at the way the pregnancy hormones had her angry one minute and weepy the next. It had been this way with Tali, too, and he suddenly felt a burst of adoration for her despite this unusual display of emotion.

“You know I don’t know the answer to that,” he answered, drawing her in for a hug, allowing her to rest her head on his chest and cry it out for a few minutes. He traced small circles around the small of her back, listening to the sounds of her sniffling as she breathed deeply against him. It had been hard on both of them, and despite the fact that they’d both acclimated to this type of life, it was stressful worrying every day whether that would be the day when Widow would find them. It wasn’t even about going back home. Home could be anywhere if they were together, and he knew that they both felt similarly. It was about knowing that they were finally safe, that Widow was no longer a threat, and that was something that neither of them could do anything about at this point.

Again, he cursed the fact that Widow had chosen to come after them when they’d been at their most vulnerable. Even though he knew exactly why they’d chosen to do that, it still didn’t make things any easier on the two of them. If they had still been back at NCIS, they could have used every resource of the United States government as well as many of Mossad’s resources in order to track Widow down, and it might all be over by now.

Then again, if they were still at NCIS, they might not have grown quite this close. Tony would be lying if he tried to convince himself that he and Ziva would have been married with one child and another on the way if they’d stayed behind. Circumstances had brought them together, whether he cared to admit it or not, and while he knew that eventually they would have inevitably found each other, the truth was that this situation – relying on each other for survival in the most basic of ways – had been the major catalyst between them.

Sensing his mind wandering, Ziva sniffled slightly before turning to nuzzle her nose into his neck, giving him a soft kiss there. “What are you thinking about?” she asked him softly, so softly that she wasn’t sure that he had even heard her at first, and she kissed him another time, breathing him in before opening her mouth to speak again.

“About us,” he said, intercepting her intention to continue talking. “About where we might have been if not for coming out here.”

Sighing heavily against him, she tightened her arms around him, unwilling to let go of the comfort his embrace just yet. Nuzzling toward him again, she replied, “We would be different,” she confirmed without him asking, and he felt his heart constrict at her words, despite having been thinking along those lines himself.

“I know,” he choked out, trying not to let himself get emotional over something that hadn’t come to pass. Who knew what might have happened if they’d stayed on the team and had continued working alongside each other. Would they have continued the delicate dance they’d choreographed around each other for so long that they’d practically perfected it?

“There is no use dwelling on that now, Tony. I said it before. We would have happened anyway. Maybe not quite as soon, and certainly not with Tali – at least immediately – but we would have happened. I have loved you for so long.”

He snapped up at that, pulling away so he could gaze into her eyes, and although they glistened with the tears she’d been crying earlier, he saw only truth there. “How long?” he asked, suddenly needing to know.

Ziva scoffed, looking away, her head turning to the ground as she suddenly found the dirt around their bare feet to be fascinating. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, trying to play off what she’d just said despite how open they’d been with each other since they’d run away together. Finally, she drew in a breath, and with it the strength to meet his gaze again, speaking. “I cannot pinpoint it. I feel as though you have always been a part of me, and to recall a time where you were not feels foreign and unnatural. I do not like to think of myself without you.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers and breathing her in, her name a gasp upon his lips as he titled his head slightly and captured her lips with his, unable to find the words to respond to how what she’d said had made him feel. He kissed her slowly, taking his time and enjoying the feel of her mouth moving in time with his own, and almost involuntarily, he reached his hand up to tangle in her hair as he cradled the back of her neck with his fingers, caressing her gently. God, but he _loved_ her.

When they parted, slowly and almost reluctantly, he remained in her space for several breaths, leaning in every so often to kiss her again, his lips finding hers seemingly of their own accord. “God, I love you,” he finally gasped against her lips, and she hummed happily as she leaned forward to meet his mouth again, allowing herself the pleasure of being wrapped up in him completely for several brief moments of time. “Let’s not think about what might have been, Ziva,” he said softly, and she shuddered at the way his voice almost seemed to break as he spoke. They had both become so vulnerable, and yet they had become each other’s strength.

Drawing back and taking him by the hand, she squeezed gently as she looked into his eyes. “Okay,” she agreed, a soft smile brightening her face.

“So about that celebration,” he finally said, trying to shift the topic back to their initial reason for being out here. “Maybe we could just have a nice meal – as nice as grilled fish and vegetables can be for the millionth time – and sing happy birthday. It can be low-key, Ziva.”

“It can’t really be anything _but_ low-key,” she said with a laugh, and Tony shrugged as a grin spread across his face. Their daughter was turning one.

“But it’s still something worth celebrating,” he said, his expression turning serious again, and when he caught her eye, he could see that she agreed. They might not have the ideal setup for a birthday party, but they hadn’t had the ideal setup for anything they’d done since they’d gotten here, and so far, nothing had stopped them.

“I cannot believe it’s been a year,” she said finally, her tone wistful, perhaps at the passage of time. Her hands instinctively came to rest on her stomach and Tony’s hands met hers there.

“A good year,” he supplied, and she smiled, leaning forward and kissing him, gasping when he snaked his hands around her waist and pulled her close. “The best,” he added, and soon she was lost in the sensation of having him wrapped around her and the comfort of his embrace. It _had_ been a good year, a happy one, despite the threat that was ever-looming over their heads. But even in the wake of that, they’d still managed to build something real together.

He was right. This year was the best, and she decided that – despite the threat that Widow could be here any day – she would allow herself to enjoy that and live in the moment.

* * *

“Tali, look, Dada has something for you,” Tony said as he opened the door, holding something behind his back. The baby looked up at the sound of her name, her little feet padding heavily toward her father, her arms outstretched in the unspoken request to be picked up.

Ziva watched and smiled, patting her stomach absentmindedly. Tali had grown rather fond of her father, running excitedly toward him whenever he came in the door.

They’d had dinner a short time ago, and Ziva had arranged some of the vegetables they had in a pattern on one of their homemade plates. They formed the shape of a “1” and took the place of the cake that they would have preferred to have had, but it looked festive enough. Tali had immediately reached for the vegetables on the plate, not understanding why Ziva had gently pushed her hand away and her parents had started singing to her in unison.

When they’d finished singing, Tony had cooed, “Happy birthday, Tali!” giving her a huge hug, and Ziva had done the same, and only then had they allowed her to reach over and put her hands on the plate, messing up the design Ziva had spent several minutes making.

It wasn’t quite the same as the mess that a cake and frosting would have been, but the tradition of allowing a child to mess up the decorative birthday food was at least somewhat intact.

Now, Ziva looked on with amusement as Tony stood with his hands behind his back, crouching down so he was on her level as he spoke to her. “Say please,” he prompted, but Tali still wasn’t talking yet. She started to whimper, closing her hands into fists and then reopening them several times in quick succession which was one of the indicators that she was about to throw a fit.

“Tony,” Ziva warned, and he immediately recognized her tone. At that, he pulled the object from behind his back, and Ziva’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

It was a bow – a small one, designed for Tali’s small frame – and a couple of dull arrows. Had they been back home, they might have been Nerf toys, for all the danger they posed, but Tali reached for the bow regardless, excited to have her own version of what her parents had. Her frustration at not having been picked up was momentarily forgotten.

Tony held out the bow, and Tali eagerly took it from him, standing confidently on her chubby toddler legs and holding it up, her arm outstretched rather crookedly away from her body. She held it with the bow-string facing outward, picking up one of the toy arrows from the ground and attempting to line it up.

Both Tony and Ziva sat transfixed as she attempted to make sense of the toy weapon, neither wanting to interrupt in order to see if she’d be able to figure it out for herself. Tali, standing on wobbly legs, scrunched her face up as the arrow she’d attempted to line up clattered to the ground. She picked it up, trying again with a similar result. Unfazed, she crouched down to pick the arrow up again, this time holding it in her fist like a javelin. With the bow still in her right hand, she chucked the arrow forward with her left, effectively “shooting” it her own way, looking up to her parents for approval, and bursting into giggles when they cheered.

“So… she doesn’t quite get it,” Tony said with a shrug, and watched as Tali proceeded to pick up another arrow and toss it similarly. Once she’d thrown all of the arrows around the room, she busied herself with running around and picking them all up again, bringing them to a neat little pile next to where she had initially stood.

“I think that it doesn’t really matter how she plays, as long as she is having fun,” Ziva said with a smile, and Tony couldn’t help but agree. “It isn’t like we need her to go out hunting on her own just yet.”

“Hopefully we aren’t still out here when she’s old enough for that,” was all Tony said, and Ziva tried not to think too hard about it. They had had this conversation more than once, but the passage of an entire year of Tali’s life had made them consider the implications of living out here long-term. They would be out here as long as they needed, but that didn’t mean that they wanted Tali to live her entire life out here in this wilderness with only her parents – and sibling – to socialize with.

Her thoughts were interrupted by none other than Tali, who had walked over to Tony, tugged on his shirt, and held her bow out to him, saying, “Dada,” seemingly indicating that she wanted to give the bow to Tony.

“What did she just say?” Tony asked, unsure if he heard correctly. It had sounded like she’d called him “Dada,” but he couldn’t be sure if it was real or just wishful thinking.

“It sounds like she just called you _Dada_ ,” Ziva said, amused. “Though I had hoped she would learn Hebrew first.”

“It’s _Abba,_ isn’t it?” he asked, and Ziva nodded. It was one of the few Hebrew words he’d really picked up over the years, mainly from hearing Ziva say it about her own father, particularly on what was perhaps one of the worst nights of her entire life. He’d been wanting to learn Hebrew before they left, and he’d even been planning to enroll in a course at Georgetown, provided he could get Gibbs to agree to allowing him the time to take it. Maybe he would ask Ziva to teach him out here instead and he could learn it alongside Tali.

“Bababa?” Tali asked, and both Tony and Ziva laughed at her, praising her for her attempts at using language. It seemed only yesterday that she had started to crawl, and now she was forming words and learning human social interaction more and more every day. Again, Ziva wished that this hadn’t been the situation with which they had to live, but at least Tali was well cared for and would be taught everything they could possibly teach her within the constraints of their new environment.

They spent the rest of the evening making sounds and trying to get Tali to repeat them, pointing at Tony for both _Abba_ and _Dada,_ and pointing at Ziva for _Ima_ and _Mama._ She hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet, but the day was full of laughter and love.

“Oh!” cried Tali, pointing at her bow, and Ziva looked at Tony, wondering if Tali had already learned the word for her newest toy.

“That’s right, Tali, that’s a bow!” Tony said animatedly, picking it up to hand it to her. Once she took it, he picked up her arrows, holding them between his fingers and pointing to them with his other hand. “And these are arrows. Can you say _arrows?”_ he said slowly, hoping she would attempt to repeat it.

Tali scrunched up her face and reached for one of the arrows and threw it the way she’d thrown the others, but didn’t attempt to repeat the word. “How about _bow,_ Tali. Can you say _bow_ again?”

“Ma bi bah,” she said, and Tony tried not to look disappointed.

“No, Tali, _bow.”_ Tali ignored him though, and Ziva tried not to laugh at the way his face fell.

She would not learn every word in the English language today. “I think it was just a fluke, Tony. I do not think she knows that it is a bow yet.”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, which had fallen into his face. It was time for Ziva to give him another haircut. That was the ultimate sign of his trust in her, since they didn’t have scissors and she had to cut his hair with a knife. “I know, but it doesn’t hurt to try,” he replied, standing back up and sitting down beside her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into him.

“She will learn,” was all she said, and she brushed that same piece of hair off of his face. “I will cut your hair in the morning,” she said, leaning over to kiss his forehead before letting the hair back down. He had _just_ been thinking about that.

“And after she goes to bed, we must spar for a while. I do not want you to forget any of the ‘ninja moves’ I have taught you.”

“You sure you’re up for it?” he teased, indicating her baby bump. She was probably only about halfway through her pregnancy at this point, but her balance surely would have shifted by now.

“Don’t think I don’t know that you’re just trying to get out of working out,” was all she said in response. He opened his mouth to respond, but Tali started to babble, interrupting the conversation.

“Ma mi ma,” Tali said as she bent down to retrieve one of her arrows from where it had fallen close to her bed, and then she looked at the crib, putting her arrow back down on the ground and rubbing her eyes, walking over to the edge of the crib and wrapping her hands around it, standing on her tiptoes and attempting to climb up and into it. She whimpered when she discovered that she was unable, and she looked over at her parents, who were watching with amusement. Not many toddlers voluntarily walked to their cribs and begged to be put down to sleep.

“You sleepy, munchkin?” Tony asked, and although Tali didn’t understand what he had said, she rubbed her eyes and continued stand on her tiptoes as if the higher she stood on them, the better chance she’d have of getting up and into the crib. She began fussing slightly with the exertion, lifting first one leg and then the other and stomping them down when she couldn’t figure out how to get into bed.

“I think that means yes,” Ziva mused, and before she was able to get up, Tony had walked over and scooped her up, checking that her diaper was clean before giving her a kiss and settling her in the crib, covering her with her blanket, a soft, deerskin cover.

“Good night, Tali,” he said softly, and just then Ziva joined him at his side, looking down at their daughter as she fought the pull of sleep. She continued to babble softly, her “words” slurring together as her eyes drifted closed, and soon she was sound asleep, her light breathing the only sound in the cabin as her parents stood by, watching her rest peacefully.

“Happy birthday, Tali,” Ziva said softly, her voice sounding wistful, and Tony gave her a slight squeeze, pulling her against him and reassuring her demons away.

Maybe they hadn’t been able to give her the first birthday of their dreams, but what they _had_ given her was far more important – love. “Now come on, Tony,” Ziva said softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

He’d hoped she’d forgotten about that. _“Fine,”_ he said in mock resignation, allowing her to lead him outside where they would spend the better part of the evening practicing their fighting. Pregnancy or no, Widow would bring everything they had, and she could not afford to let her guard down, so she fought Tony with no mercy well into the night, until both of them were completely exhausted. At that point, they washed off in the stream and then crawled into bed, determined to continue practicing the next day, and every day they could until they no longer needed to fight anymore.

 _I hope that day eventually comes,_ Ziva thought to herself right before drifting off to sleep, her arm wrapped loosely around her husband’s waist as he snored lightly beside her.

* * *

“Beebee,” Tali said, patting Ziva’s belly carefully as she walked by. It had become Tali’s new favorite ritual, pointing out the fact that there was a baby in Ziva’s belly. Now that the pregnancy had become obvious to even Tali’s untrained eyes, she had been fascinated with it, though she clearly did not understand what it meant. Tali had never seen a baby before, and they weren’t entirely sure if she could quite conceptualize what the word meant.

“That’s right, Tali, _baby,”_ Ziva repeated, praising her for her correct use of the word. “Where’s Ima’s baby?” she asked, holding her hands out and away from her stomach, and almost immediately, Tali stepped forward, putting both of her palms on Ziva’s belly and smiling widely, her tiny teeth showing in a grin that rivalled only her father’s.

“I wonder if she knows that only Imas can have babies?” Tony asked, and he decided to try an experiment. “Tali, where’s Abba’s baby?” he asked, holding his arms out the same way that Ziva had.

Tali didn’t hesitate, and he laughed heartily when she stepped forward and put her hands on his tummy, patting his stomach as she repeated, “Beebee,” patting her father’s stomach as gently as she had her mother’s.

“Tony,” Ziva admonished, but she couldn’t help her laughter. Tali would learn eventually, and what harm was it for her to play and explore her world a little? “Abba doesn’t have a baby,” Ziva teased, but Tali didn’t seem to understand what she was saying and merely continued to pat her father’s stomach happily, repeating the word _baby_ in her own way over and over again.

“Okay, where’s Tali’s baby?” Tony asked after several minutes, and Tali looked down at her own stomach and patted it happily, laughing uncontrollably as she realized that she too had a belly. Of course she didn’t have a baby either, but she had no idea what she was even looking for, and to her, the idea of patting everyone’s belly was the most delightful thing she had ever experienced.

“Come here, Talikins,” Ziva said, sitting down on the edge of her bed, and Tali followed her, reaching her hands up so that she could be pulled up to sit next to her. The bed doubled as a sofa at this point, as it was much more comfortable to sit on than the bench at the table, but it wasn’t exactly easy for a toddler to climb up. Perhaps Tony could make her a stepstool.

Once Tali was up on the bed beside her, Ziva picked her up and sat her on her lap, looking into her daughter’s eyes as she began to tell her a story. “Once upon a time, there lived an Ima,” she said, pointing to herself, and she waited for Tali to point and repeat the word, “and an Abba,” she paused to point at Tony and watched as Tali did the same, “and they loved each other so, so much. They didn’t know it right away, but they would do anything to protect each other.” Tony looked up then, watching his two girls – Ziva as she sat cross-legged on the bed and Tali who watched her earnestly, not understanding the story but enraptured by her mother’s voice all the same.

“One day, they found out that an evil villain was after them. Normally, Ima and Abba would go to their friends for help, but their friends couldn’t help them due to a very bad situation that left them all without their powers, so they decided to go into hiding.” Ziva covered her face, hiding it, and Tali mimicked her, giggling as she moved her hands away and spotted her mother’s face again.

“When they got there, Ima and Abba built a house together, trying to live as normally as possible and hoping that the evil villain wouldn’t find them, but along the way, they finally realized how important they were to each other. They vowed that they would always love each other, and they loved each other so much that they had a baby, a beautiful little princess they named…” Ziva paused for effect, lifting her hand up with her fingers curled, “Tali!” she shrieked as she brought her hand down to her daughter’s torso, tickling her rapidly and making her giggle uncontrollably.

“Ah dyah -ali!” she said through her giggles, still struggling with the correct pronunciation of her name. Ziva couldn’t help but join in, finding her daughter’s laughter infectious, until both of them were lying down on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“And did they live happily ever after?” Tony asked once the laughter had subsided.

“They _are,”_ she replied with a raise of her eyebrows, leaning forward and blowing him a kiss from across the room. _Yeah we are,_ Tony thought with a smile, and crossed the room to lie down with his girls.

He pretended not to notice the way her eyes clouded over as she remembered the threat against them, and he shivered as he held his family close and tried to push their demons away.  

* * *

Daniel was frustrated, and he wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt as he continued to squint at the small screen. Several months of being helicopter-bound was getting to his head, and now with the added stress of watching over their shoulders for any number of people from around the globe who were now searching for them, this was perhaps the most psychologically taxing thing he’d ever been a part of.

He had all but tuned out the sound of the rotors whipping the air around them, but the confined space he shared with three other men was becoming stifling, and they were still no closer to finding Ziva David and her partner than they had been when they started. Aman had given them orders to be ever vigilant, because it was apparent that the manhunt the Americans were conducting was beginning to escalate.

They were searching over Morocco now, but the mountainous terrain made it nearly impossible to find reliable thermal imaging. If Ziva and her partner had found a place to hide deep in the mountains, it would certainly be a good place for them to hole up, hidden away deep in the rock-covered caverns.

The radio crackled, and all four men in the vessel looked up, startled. It was rare that anyone communicated with them, as they were using a secure frequency.

“Sokar called us,” came the voice of one of their associates, a man they knew only as Lox. “Head back to base. He has new developments from the boss. And he wants us to move the search.” Ayaz Sokar was one of Aman’s highest ranking officials, someone who had been largely considered to be his second in command. If he was calling them back, they would be wise to obey.

“Where?” Tamir inquired, grabbing the transmitter hastily as all others snapped to attention.

“He did not say,” came the slightly garbled response. “I do not think he wants to give that information over unsecure channels.”

The four men in the helicopter exchanged a look before Tamir spoke again. “This is a secure line.”

“He doesn’t trust it.”

“All right,” he said, holding back a sigh. If he didn’t trust the line, then they wouldn’t question him. Wordlessly, Levi pulled up on the lever and steered them back in the opposite direction, and Daniel reached over and switched off the infrared monitor.

It was a relatively quiet flight back to their base of operations, and when they landed, all of the men scrambled out of the helicopter and into the building where they awaited further instruction.

If any of them were surprised to see that Aman was not there they didn’t show it, despite this being his operation. Aman had been delegating more and more to Sokar, while he was off making nice with the government officials who were funding them. Last they’d heard, a hunt for two small-time Americans wasn’t exactly a high priority, but apparently Aman was still doing a pretty good job of making his case to the government. There were a dozen other men also present and waiting for instruction, but no one seemed to be any more in the loop than anyone else.

“What’s going on?” Levi whispered to one of the other operatives when he sat down, but the man just shrugged, his eyes trained on their superior the entire time, his wariness obvious. It seemed they would have to wait until Sokar was ready to tell them why they were here and not out in the field looking for Ziva David like they had been. There must be something of note for him to want to change up the search when they’d just gotten to this part of the continent a couple of days ago. They’d planned to be flying their way around Africa for the better part of two years if they were to be as thorough as Aman claimed he wanted them to be.

A few more men trickled in, and finally Sokar strolled to the front of the room. Everyone faced him at that point, waiting expectantly. “You are all probably wondering why I have called all of you back here,” he said as a way of starting the meeting, and anyone in the room who hadn’t stopped talking did so immediately, their attention fixed on Sokar as he spoke.

When no one responded except to nod, he continued. “Our ‘friends’ at NCIS have been very helpful,” he said, using air quotes and a devious smirk when he spoke about people who were most assuredly not his friends. “They have been turning up leads for us, and we have not had to do anything.”

“Unfortunately, our _friends_ seem to have made some other friends, which has made things a little… _difficult_ for us,” he continued, scowling as he spoke. None of the men needed to ask what he was talking about, for they all knew that there were multiple American and foreign government agencies now looking for them.

“Mr. Aman and I have put a plan in place, however,” he began, his sinister grin spreading across his face as he spoke, “and it will ensure that the American government will no longer pursue us. You see, they just need to believe that we are not involved in this thing, and they will leave us alone so that we can find their little agents.”

Daniel and Tamir exchanged a quick glance, careful not to be caught by Ayaz Sokar’s watchful gaze. Sokar was every bit as unhinged as Rafi Aman, but he had considerably less restraint than the boss did.

His smile grew, a devious grin that made him look almost maniacal. “Once we take care of that, of course, we can continue to watch our friends at NCIS from afar while they hunt for Ziva David and her silly American partner. They will lead us right to them, of course, but I believe that we have already been led in their direction by the folks at NCIS, and they don’t even know it. That’s where all of you come in. I happen to believe that I _know_ where their agents are already.”

The room was silent, so silent that it seemed that everyone had ceased to even breathe, and all of them waited with anticipation for what Sokar would have to tell them. “Not precisely, of course, but I know where to look.”

A sinister smile spread across his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men before him and pointed to a map. “Here,” he said, pointing, and all men leaned forward to try to catch a glimpse of where they were headed.

“I am certain that they are in this area,” he said, pointing to a circle he had drawn on the map. “We will move the search there, and that is where we will find Ziva David.”

“All due respect, but how do you know?” Lox asked, the only one of the entire bunch who was brave enough to question the leadership to their faces.

“You dare _question me?”_ Sokar asked, his voice raising an octave with every word. He crossed rapidly to where Lox was standing, swiping a knife from one of the tables nearby and pushing Lox against the wall of the room, the knife aimed at his throat. _“Huh?”_ he insisted, touching the point of the knife into his neck and drawing the smallest droplet of blood.

“No, sir,” he replied, his voice strained as he struggled against the man holding him to the wall. “I just want to know, that’s all.”

“You will know what I _need_ you to know, is that clear?” he said, leaning in close and spitting the words in the man’s face. He nodded slightly, and the other men watched transfixed, not daring to say anything. “IS. THAT. CLEAR?” he roared, turning his attention to the rest of the room, and every head bobbed in the affirmative, all of them unwilling to speak.

“Good,” he said, drawing the word out and pulling the knife back, nicking Lox just below the collarbone. Then, in his best impersonation of his boss, Ayaz Sokar shouted at the rest of the men. “Now _find Ziva David!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 24 on Tuesday.


	24. Heat Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva and Tali enjoy the stream. Meanwhile, the folks at NCIS have to deal with a very unwelcome development that leaves Tony and Ziva more vulnerable than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: This chapter contains smut (in the first scene) and childbirth (in the last scene). Just want you to be prepared if neither of those things are cool for you.

It was _hot_ out.

Ziva lifted her hair off the back of her neck for what seemed the hundredth time, hoping that this time she’d be lucky enough to feel a breeze.

None came, and so she grabbed the nearest object that had substance – a branch – and began fanning herself, staring up at the sky and narrowing her eyes at the brightness of the sun. She didn’t often miss modern conveniences, but air conditioning was one of the few things she’d never again take for granted.

“Aren’t you hot?” she asked Tony irritably as he continued to work, gathering up a sizeable pile of logs that they would use to keep their fire going as long as they needed.

“A little,” he replied with a shrug. He hadn’t really been paying attention, but now that Ziva mentioned it, it was pretty much sweltering. Tali was running around outside as well, oblivious to the fact that her mother was uncomfortable. She was sweating, of course, but she hardly seemed to mind.

She looked at him incredulously. “I feel like I am on fire,” she replied, fanning herself. She’d been sitting outside with her legs spread out in front of her, hoping that a breeze would show her some mercy.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, his gaze falling over her form and lingering on her now visibly pregnant stomach, “but maybe it’s got something to do with your hormones.”

“Bah bohn,” Tali said, attempting to repeat the word. It wasn’t likely a word she would understand or keep in her vocabulary for any length of time. 

“Obviously,” she said with faint smile, standing back up and walking after Tali as she strayed a little too far for her liking. “But knowing the cause does not ease my discomfort, Tony,” she added, lifting her hair up a second time just to let the nape of her neck catch some air and patting her stomach lightly with her free hand.

“Why don’t you and Tali go for a swim?”

She turned her gaze to the stream and the small pool there. A swim sounded heavenly, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. “You’ll join us?”

“I guess this can wait,” he agreed, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside before crossing to where she sat and holding his hand out to help her up. She was perfectly capable of doing it herself and they both knew it, but Ziva didn’t complain as she stood up, using his strength since her balance was so often tested these days.

“I just need to change Tali’s diaper real quick,” she said, heading toward the house, where the clean linens were kept. The water in the pool was far too deep for them to bring Tali in without one of them holding her, but that wouldn’t be much of an issue unless she started to squirm, and if they needed to, they could certainly wade in the shallower parts of the stream and still cool off.

Tali would be due for a nap in a little bit, so maybe a relaxing dip in the water would be just what she needed to settle beforehand. She was down to just one nap per day, and she usually took it in the afternoon after an early morning start. Although it was hard to say for sure, Tali would usually nap for what seemed like a couple of hours before waking, which would be plenty of time for the two of them to relax in the pool on their own once they put her down.

Quickly, she gathered a clean diaper as well as a change of clothes for herself and for Tony. If they were going to go for a swim, they may as well put on some fresh clothes after they got out.

Tony watched Ziva emerge with a handful of clothing and waited while she proceeded to take the diaper off of their daughter and clean her up. Tony stepped forward, taking the clothes from her and setting them gently down on a nearby log.

“This should relax her and then she can nap, and then we can have some time to ourselves,” she responded, leaning toward him and kissing him gently on the lips. Instinctively he leaned into the kiss, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

They parted quickly, Tony taking Tali with him as he slid carefully into the pool of water, and soon Ziva was slipping out of her tunic and getting in behind them, sighing happily as the water hit her skin. It was so hot out that the water wasn’t really cold, but the water was still colder than the air and it felt heavenly. “I do not know why I did not think of this,” she murmured her appreciation, and Tony grinned, handing Tali back over to Ziva, as she was reaching for her mother.

Tony wasted no time in fully submerging himself, ducking his head under water and letting the water soak his hair. “I am a genius,” he said as he emerged, and he shook his head lightly to dislodge some of the droplets, splashing Tali in the process and causing her to giggle before she pulled at her hair, a surefire sign that she was growing tired.

Still, no one could fight the pull of sleep like a toddler, so she busied herself with splashing with her free hand, giggling whenever Tony would act offended that he had dared to hit her with even the smallest bit of water. Ziva waited until Tali was completely enthralled watching her father before cupping her free hand, filling it with water, and dumping it on her daughter’s head, and Tali turned around with a delightful squeal of surprise, yelling, “Ima!”

Tony’s amused voice caught her attention again. “Did Ima _splash_ you, Tali?”

“Ima paaash!” she shouted, slapping her hand down into the water in an attempt to replicate the splashing movement that Tony had made before, which had resulted in a much bigger splash than what Tali had been used to. Once she figured it out, she doused Tony with the water, and both she and Ziva started laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh, that’s funny?” he said, leaning teasingly toward them, acting as though he was angry. Tali was well aware that it was all a show, and she nodded with a giggle, reaching up to rub her eyes slowly but then making eye contact with her father again.

“Abba,” she giggled as Tony leaned forward, reaching out his fingers as if he was about to tickle her, but she squirmed backwards and just out of reach and rubbed her eyes again.

“Someone’s sleepy,” Ziva commented softly, and she felt Tali nodding slightly against her. Tali couldn’t say the word yet, but she recognized it, and she was almost always willing to admit defeat when it came to being tired, which both Tony and Ziva had agreed was very unusual for a toddler, but they weren’t about to complain. Tantrums were definitely a thing sometimes, but they seemed to occur less frequently than expected.

Ziva carefully slid out of the water and reached for a cloth to dry Tali off, carrying her into the house and singing softly to her. Tony stayed behind, enjoying the water rippling against his skin. He was certain that Ziva would be back based on the way she had glanced at him as she got out of the stream, and it wasn’t very long at all before she emerged from the house, Tali noticeably absent.

“She’s asleep,” was all Ziva said as she stripped out of her clothes and stepped back into the water. With Tali they hadn’t felt comfortable being completely nude, but now that she was asleep – and within earshot, as they’d checked how far sound would carry months ago – there didn’t seem to be any harm in enjoying the water by themselves.

“You know,” Tony began, leaning toward her and lowering his voice slightly, “when you come out here with those bedroom eyes and strip all of your clothes off in front of me, I’m almost inclined to believe you’re trying to seduce me,” he teased, raising his eyebrows.

Moving forward in the water, she reached for him, sliding her hand around his waist and under the shorts he had still been wearing. Finding what she had been looking for, she smirked at the way he yelped in surprise as she leaned forward, whispering one sultry word in his ear: “Good.”

He was surging forward and pressing against her in an instant, his hands wrapping firmly around her waist as he devoured her lips with his own, his tongue snaking between their mouths to tease there as she allowed him access. He moaned loudly as she deepened the kiss, his jaw flexing as he molded his mouth to hers, one of his hands sliding up and grabbing at her breast, causing her to groan into his mouth before she pulled away with a gasp.

“Tony,” she moaned as she tilted her head back, stifling a scream as he leaned forward to kiss at her neck. If she had been hot before, she was absolutely on _fire_ now, and she was all too ready to let the inferno consume her again.

“Ahh, Ziva,” he gasped against her neck, nibbling lightly at the exposed skin as he pressed against her, “don’t act so surprised when you know _exactly_ what you came out here for.”

“I just want you to touch me,” she breathed unevenly, and she reached for his arms to guide them downward. “I will never get tired of feeling your hands on me,” she added, her words shaky as he teased his fingers down her growing stomach and toward her already aching core.

“What about… _in_ you?” he asked, his voice gravely as he teased his fingers at the junction where her leg met her torso, smirking at the way she drew in a sharp breath.

“Tony,” she warned, sliding her hand down his arm and attempting to guide his hand toward where she wanted to feel him the most, but he held firm, wrapping his free arm around her waist and drawing her into him for another searing kiss.

Kissing him seemed to make her forget all else, for soon she was reaching her hands first to his cheek to pull his head more firmly into hers, and then around his neck to pull him closer, and then around his back to pull his body tightly against her. Gasping, she pulled away only to say, “I want to feel _all_ of you,” before diving back in again, feeling a chill go through her entire being as he groaned into her mouth, her body instantly warming at the mere thought of having him again.

She traced her hands down the sides of his body, feeling the way his skin flexed underneath her touch, and reached for the hem of his shorts to push them down, waiting patiently as he shimmied out of them and tossed them onto the bank of the stream. _“Please,”_ she begged as she reached her hand between them to stroke him, feeling him shiver beneath her touch.

“Please _what?”_ he teased, and she stilled her hand, reaching with her free hand to guide his hand between her legs where he _finally_ slid his finger inside of her, causing her to tremble with anticipation, her head tilting back involuntarily as she choked back a cry of pleasure.

God, she had been _craving_ him. “Mmm, you’re so wet,” he teased, working his fingers between her legs expertly, slowly teasing her and working her into a frenzy.

“We’re in the water,” she breathed back, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder, turning to nibble at his neck when he grazed her clit with his thumb.

“That’s not from the stream,” he retorted, his voice still low and throaty as he furrowed his brow and concentrated on bringing her right to the edge. He loved everything about her – how she would bite her lip when she was trying hard not to cry out, and how she would eventually lose all control and start screaming his name when he brought her right to the brink. He lived for it, for the way they played against each other, and he would never tire of watching her fall apart at his hands for as long as he lived.

 _“Tony,”_ she begged, widening her legs and wrapping them around him, pulling his body closer to her and trusting him to keep them both afloat.

“Oh, you’re so ready for me,” he breathed as he leaned forward, kissing her neck and eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure. She shifted slightly, attempting to guide him toward her, but he scooted away just enough to cause her to whimper in frustration, smirking at her when she glared.

“Please, Tony,” she begged again, desperate to feel him inside her. There was nothing like it in the world, the way she felt when he was inside her, pushing against her and into her and making love to her until her toes curled and he pulled every last ounce of pleasure from her. _“Please,”_ she added again, sounding more desperate with every gasp.

Finally, he took himself in hand and guided himself toward her entrance, teasing the head of his cock at her already dripping center. Despite the fact that they were in the water, he could certainly tell that she was dying for his touch, and he slowly began to press into her, watching her reverently as her mouth began to form an “o” shape as she stretched to accommodate him, her hands grasping at his shoulder blades as he entered her fully on one hard thrust.

“Oh, _yessss,”_ she gasped, reveling in the way he threw his own head back with a groan as she pulsed around him.

“You feel _so_ good,” he grunted, keeping himself buried within her for a moment in time, feeling the way she completed him fully, the way she felt coating him with her tight moisture.

Ziva slowly began rocking away from him and then back, rolling her hips gently against his and building up the friction between their two tightly-wound bodies. She was grasping at him with both hands, her nails digging deeply into his back as she rolled against him, her head thrown back in pleasure with each roll of her hips against his, and each matching thrust of his pelvis toward hers. “Slow?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, and she nodded, unable to form the words as they slowly circled their hips into each other.

He shifted and she felt him deep, causing her to cry out as her toes began to twitch. “Tony!” she gasped, her hands running down his back as she rolled her hips toward him, meeting him with a hard roll of her hips against his, feeling as though they just might fuse if they tried hard enough.

“You are _perfect,”_ he gasped as he picked up the pace just slightly, bucking his hips more wildly as she continued to grasp at him, their bodies bouncing buoyantly in the water as the waves crashed upon their skin.

“I’m…” she began, but she couldn’t finish her statement as she threw her head back in a silent scream, her entire body tensing as she started to find her release in his arms, and soon Tony was thrusting into her with much more vigor, desperate to bring them both to completion.

“Come, Ziva,” he begged, his voice sounding ragged as he thrust against her, the water splashing around them to the rhythm of their lovemaking. She felt herself tensing even further as she grasped for him, desperate for something to hang onto, and soon she was letting go, wave after wave of water mixed with pleasure washing over her as she pulsed around her, her orgasm triggering his own release, and a few short, slow thrusts later they stilled, their bodies heaving against each other as they gasped for breath and the water began to settle around them.

“Still hot?” Tony gasped finally when they had both regained enough breath, his forehead pressing against hers as they leaned into one another, reluctant to leave the blissful cocoon of their lovemaking just yet.

“Sweltering,” was the response, and he couldn’t help it when he began to laugh, his entire body shaking with the deep belly laughter as he finally pulled from within her, and soon she was laughing too, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she buried her head into his shoulder and laughed in his arms, basking in every moment they shared together in the jungle heat.

* * *

McGee all but slammed the phone down on the receiver as his call came to a close, immediately reaching up and rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

No one bothered to ask him the result, as everyone in the room could read the frustration in his face. Vivian Mays had been killed somewhere on this planet, but not a single person could lead them anywhere near that location. She had last been seen four days prior to her discovery. No one seemed to notice when she was no longer around, and no one – not even the residents of her building – had noticed anything unusual.

He and Gibbs had both petitioned Vance to be allowed to travel to Manchester themselves to investigate, but they’d been unable to get approval. They’d had to work with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations based in Leeds, about an hour’s drive away from Manchester, and it was a major favor to Gibbs from one of the people he knew there, an old-school investigator named Greg Drummond.

Gibbs hadn’t given Agent Drummond much information on the case but had asked him to look into things for him, with Vance’s seal of approval to back up the request. Drummond and his team had gone by the flat and collected everting they could. They’d spoken to all of the neighbors and dusted around for prints, but the phone call they’d gotten back a few days later had given them exactly what they’d expected – nothing. Not so much a speck of hair out of place in Vivian’s pristine apartment, and when they’d gotten the photos via airmail a few days later, they found the exact same thing that Drummond’s team had. Nothing.

Even more than that, they’d also found the name of one of Rafi Aman’s people, a hard-looking man named Ayaz Sokar, who had a tenuous link to Widow at best. Gibbs had taken one look at the man’s picture and known that he was a dangerous man, and McGee just _knew_ somehow that this man was involved, but the information they’d been able to get on Sokar had so far been minimal.

Everything they’d gotten on the Mays case so far had been nothing. Everything they’d gotten on Sokar so far had been nothing.

At least it hadn’t been a wasted trip, though McGee found himself wishing they could have left the country for a few days anyway. Maybe the change of scenery would do them all some good.

He wondered if Tony and Ziva’s change of scenery – wherever that was – was doing them some good. He didn’t often dwell on whatever it was they were doing anymore because it really didn’t change anything about the situation, and he’d gotten to the point where wondering would drive him mad if he let himself get consumed by it for too long.

“What else are we waiting to hear back on?” Thompson asked, looking through the pile of paperwork on her desk as she spoke.

“That’s the last of mine,” McGee said, and Pruitt looked at his pile as well.

“Nothing here, either.”

“Fuck,” McGee swore, pounding his fist on the desk hard enough for his cup of pens to rattle. He’d never been this frustrated with a case before, and he’d certainly never taken to cursing at work within earshot of his boss.

“You need to cool off, McGee?” Gibbs said, looking up and staring at him coldly. He started to open his mouth and give the customary _“I’m fine,”_ response but he shut it, taking a deep breath and rolling his chair back to step away from his desk with a curt nod.

As soon as he pressed the button roughly and the elevator doors closed, he let out a loud, frustrated groan. This was the only place in the entire building where he could be alone with his anger, but he couldn’t exactly stay in the elevator the entire day.

When the door opened, he found himself staring at the corridor that would lead to Abby’s lab. She wasn’t exactly the ideal person to reach out to for calm comfort, but there wasn’t really anywhere else in the building he’d feel comfortable pouring out his problems, and he knew that Abby would at least understand.

As soon as he walked in the door Abby grabbed the remote to her stereo system and turned the music down to where they could at least hear each other over it, but not much further than that. “It’s like you knew I was coming,” he commented, and neither of them responded to that. He should have known that one of the people upstairs – probably Gibbs – would have warned her that he was coming, _and_ that he was out of sorts.

Still, he couldn’t exactly discount her empathetic nature, so if his boss meant for him to let some of his frustrations out by chatting in the lab, then that was what he would do. Before she had the opportunity to force him to sit and talk it out, however, her phone rang, and McGee watched as her eyes went wide as she listened. Soon she was dragging him by the hand and back into the elevator the way he’d come and back up to the bullpen, where Gibbs, Pruitt, Thompson, and Director Vance stood waiting for his arrival.

Well _this_ didn’t look good.

“I’ve been on a conference call,” Vance began, looking around the room and determining that he could make this announcement here in the bullpen, “and it appears that the FBI has apprehended a man who claims to be responsible for the attack on McGee’s car as well as the threats to the agency.”

Gibbs was the first to speak, his quick, “What?” being drowned out by Abby’s “Whoa!” and soon followed by McGee’s stunned, “You’re kidding.”

Vance raised his hand as a signal that they should all stop talking. “According to the Bureau, the man confessed to everything, saying he has no connection to Widow and that he wants to be known as a lone-wolf terrorist.”

Gibbs and McGee exchanged a look. Lone-wolf terrorists were extremely rare, and typically they had other agendas than threatening a government agency and two of its former agents. “How sure are they?” McGee asked, feeling a sinking sensation in his gut.

“They’re convinced this is our guy. He made a full confession. Threatening us. Threatening Mossad. Killing Vivian Mays, sending three unknowns into Mossad and later beheading them. He claimed to have heard of Widow but maintained that he was acting alone. He only used Widow as a smokescreen so that Tony and Ziva – and later, NCIS – would take the threat more seriously.”

Gibbs looked as flabbergasted as McGee felt, but McGee was the one who spoke first. “It was an exploding car and a threat against a government agency. Of course we were going to take it seriously.”

Vance nodded as he continued to speak. “That’s apparently what the Bureau told him, but he was adamant that he was not affiliated with Widow at all.”

Gibbs and McGee exchanged another look. “And the Bureau believed him?”

“He knew a lot,” Vance replied, again listing off all of the things they were now being told that this single man was apparently responsible for.

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief, his tone of voice showcasing his impatience. “He’s not our guy. Where’s Rafi Aman? Where’s his second, this Ayaz Sokar we dug up dirt on the other day?” Ayaz Sokar had been extremely difficult to connect to Widow in the first place, but both Gibbs and McGee _knew_ that he was involved. They’d hardly been able to gather anything on them, and now it all seemed very convenient that as soon as they’d had a credible lead there was suddenly a man stepping up to give a full confession.

“He showed no recognition of them,” was all Vance said, giving the information he’d been given.

Gibbs took two steps forward, stepping closer to Director Vance and looking at him squarely. “I want to see the interrogation.”

“Gibbs–”

“I want to see the damn interrogation. Something’s off about this, Leon. Tell me you don’t see it. McGee,” he said, nodding his head to the other agent. Thompson and Pruitt were new agents, _probies_ , but had anyone asked, both of them would have agreed that something didn’t feel right to them, either.

McGee cleared his throat before speaking. “I feel it too.”

“The FBI isn’t just going to bow over and let us take the footage of their interrogation of this guy.”

“He was apparently the one responsible for threatening _us_ , wasn’t he? We don’t get to play a part in any of this? Can’t we talk to him?’

“Gibbs–”

“Don’t ‘Gibbs’ me, Leon,” he retorted, his voice raising as his frustration began to show in earnest. “I know we had to get them involved in this but there’s no way that, after countless threats to our own, we shouldn’t be allowed to at least talk to the guy. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Surprisingly, there was very little red tape involved in allowing Gibbs to interrogate the suspect, a young man by the name of Micah Karim. According to the file that the FBI had sent them, Karim was a 23-year-old enlistee in the Iranian Army who had used his credentials to gain both rank and access to the tools he would need to carry out the type of operations he – under the guise of Widow – had taken on. Because Iran and the United States were not exactly allies, most of his work had been allowed to take place under the noses – and funding – of the Iranian government, and Karim’s higher-ups had not only looked the other way but had assisted him in covering up everything he’d done under the cover of official, classified operations.

Gibbs had been speaking with the man now for quite some time, and McGee had stayed in the observation room, silently watching for any sign that Micah Karim was not who or what he said he was. He was certainly no wizard when it came to detecting lies, but he had sensed something was up from the moment that Vance had come down into the bullpen saying that the FBI had caught someone.

It all seemed a little _too_ easy, especially with Tony and Ziva still out there somewhere, and without American government agencies searching for them, Widow would have a much easier time getting to their marks. Not only that, Rafi Aman actually _had_ a reason to target Ziva, and this guy barely had any connection to her other than an odd fascination and adulation for Ilan Bodnar. The mere thought of it all made McGee shiver, though he had a sneaking suspicion that the air conditioning was partially to blame.

“I have already told your friends at the FBI everything,” Karim was saying for what must have been the twelfth time.

“You’re lying,” Gibbs accused. Anyone in the immediate vicinity could tell that he was losing his patience, but Karim, for his part, seemed to take it in stride.

“Why would I lie?” The man said, leaning forward and crossing his hands on the table. “I have just told your government that I am the person who has done all of these things. Who would do that, if they have not done it?”

“A patsy,” was all Gibbs said, and the man looked confused at the term until Gibbs clarified its meaning. “A person being used to take the fall for something. What did they offer you,” Gibbs said more than asked, clearly not wanting an answer to his question.

“I have told you, it is like I have said. I wanted Ziva David dead–”

“Then why are you sitting here instead of off finishing the job? Why confess now?” If the FBI had asked this question, they might have seen that this was not their guy, but the FBI hadn’t seemed too concerned with the threats against a former agent and her partner whose disappearance couldn’t be linked to anything more concrete. Agents at the Bureau had assumed, as several of the folks at NCIS had, that Tony and Ziva had simply run off together, despite Gibbs, McGee, and Abby’s insistence to the contrary.

Karim didn’t seem to have an answer for the question, and Gibbs pounded on the table, startling Karim as well as the observers in the next room.

A voice crackled on the loudspeaker. “Your time is up, Agent Gibbs,” a man said, and Gibbs wiped his brow with his fingers in frustration. That had been part of the deal – they could speak to Micah Karim, but they would only have an hour in which to do so, no matter what happened.

“I was just–” he protested, but he was interrupted.

The door to interrogation opened and two FBI agents stepped in, gathering Karim between them, one at each of his arms. Karim was dressed in orange, his hands shackled in front of him and his legs chained as well. Still, another two agents waited in the doorway to escort him out. “You were told this as terms of allowing him to come here,” the agent said, in person this time.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and muttering, “God damn it,” under his breath. The FBI agents didn’t stop, and soon Karim was gone, along with any information he could have given.

“Boss?” McGee asked as he stepped out of the observation room, talking quietly so as not to be overheard.

Responding just as quietly, Gibbs looked at McGee with a nod. “He’s definitely a patsy. If he was really the one after Ziva, he wouldn’t be here right now.”

“So what do we do?”

“We do nothing,” Vance intercepted, overhearing the conversation.

“Leon–”

“Don’t ‘Leon’ me, Gibbs,” he said, echoing the argument Gibbs had made the other day. “The man confessed, Agent Gibbs. There is nothing we can do. Find your people.”

“He’s not the one,” Gibbs insisted, balling his fists. He’d been frustrated over many cases in the past, but none seemed to come close to the level of annoyance he felt at this entire situation. He was missing two of his best, other agencies were coming in to tell him how to do his job, and there was still a cell of terrorists out there who had conveniently dropped this guy into the FBI’s lap so they could run amok with impunity.

“I know that, Agent Gibbs, but I cannot officially open anything right now. The best we can do is follow up on the missing people we have and try to locate them. If we happen to locate some terrorists while we’re at it, then so be it.”

“So we’re back to where we started then?” They’d gone so long without being able to officially look for Tony and Ziva or for Widow, and now they were back to being told there was no threat and to let it all go.

Vance nodded but said nothing else, and both Gibbs and McGee caught his eye. Vance was unfortunately in a rough position, one that neither of them envied, but they caught his meaning well enough. They’d be able to do what they needed if it meant bringing Tony and Ziva back safely, but they couldn’t do it officially. It infuriated McGee how easily the FBI had played right into Widow’s hands.

“Well, McGee, go and _discreetly_ find some more information on Ayaz Sokar,” was all Gibbs said once Vance had walked away, and he nodded grimly. There wasn’t much to find, that was something he already knew, but now that the FBI and the rest of the alphabet had abandoned them on this, considering the threat to be neutralized, they would have to go back to working every possible angle on this case. Widow would now be free to operate without the full onslaught of the United States government looking for them, and NCIS was once again on their own.

 _And_ _damn it,_ McGee thought to himself, _where the hell are Tony and Ziva?_

* * *

It was right around their usual bedtime when Ziva started to notice it this time, and after having experienced it with Tali the first time around, she knew immediately what was happening.

Their second child was ready to arrive.

Tali had gone to sleep already, curled up comfortably in the crib Tony had made her, and Tony was still outside, cleaning up the mess he had made while he was building a couple of outdoor chairs, so that they could just sit outside and enjoy nature instead of being cooped up inside all of the time or sitting on a tree stump whenever they did venture outside. It was long overdue, but at least he was feeling productive. Ziva felt the pain in the lower part of her back, and she rubbed her belly unconsciously as she breathed through it, wondering if this labor would be quite as long as her last or if it would be shorter.

Once, several years ago, she had been told that the labor and delivery shortened with each child, but she wasn’t sure if that was truth or if it was just anecdotal evidence from a bunch of mothers who shared similar experiences. Again, she began to wonder about all the things she might have asked an obstetrician, had she been able to do so.

Not that she would particularly _mind_ a shorter labor this time. The whole thing had been intensely painful. Any shortening of that would be welcome.

Tony came in then, noting the way Ziva was seated on the edge of the bed, grimacing in pain. “Ziva?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake Tali. Usually, she would sleep quite soundly, but he still didn’t want her to awaken any earlier than necessary.

“It is fine, Tony, I just think it might be time.”

“You’re sure?”

She glared at him, wondering why he would ask such a stupid question. _Of_ course _she was sure._ “Well it was exactly like this the last time, and nothing else feels quite the way that childbirth does, so _yes,_ I am sure.” She hadn’t meant to snap at him, but really, _why did he even ask that?_

Tony looked over at Tali. “Will she sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Ziva answered truthfully. If she had to guess, her labor with Tali had lasted around twelve hours, and she expected that this one would last just as long, which would mean that Tali would be awake and wanting to run around right when Ziva would be experiencing the most pain.

It would be a challenge, to say the least, especially since Tony could not really keep Tali occupied and deliver their second child at the same time.

“What if she wakes up?” They’d talked about this before, but they had been just as unsure then as they were now, and Ziva still didn’t have a suitable answer to that question. They would just have to hope that she would be able to give birth before Tali awoke, so that Tony would be able to take care of her while Ziva was attending to their newborn.

Going off the grid and hiding from a terrorist threat was not supposed to have gotten this damn _complicated._

Ziva slid off the bed, cradling her belly as she padded outside. She walked slowly so as not to agitate the pain, but it wasn’t like she could exactly control when it would come so she made her way steadily to the stream.

Tony followed her, keeping the door cracked open so that he could listen for Tali, the gate lodged firmly in place so that if she happened to awaken and miraculously climb over the tall crib, she wouldn’t be able to wander outside of the house. Tali couldn’t get over the edge of the crib, but he refused to take chances. “Where are you going?” he asked rather unnecessarily, as Ziva had reached the stream and was already sliding off her shoes.

“Last time, I sat in the water for a while and it really seemed to help. Maybe it is a placebo, but I would like to do that again, at least for a little while.” She stepped into the water, sliding slowly into the pool so that her body was almost fully submerged, then looked back at him, cradling her heavy belly and rubbing it gently under the waves. “Perhaps you should go back inside and make sure that Tali is all right.”

“She was completely passed out, Ziva, and I really think I should stay out here with you,” he argued, not wanting to cause a huge fuss but knowing that she might need his assistance.

“I will call for you if I need you,” she said, then suddenly hissed as the pain in her back intensified, her body tensing as she breathed through a contraction. She continued to rub her belly soothingly, even though it really didn’t help.

“You need me now,” he said, and quickly slid off his clothes and followed her into the pool, sliding behind her and wrapping his arms around her, settling them just under her chest and offering himself as a support. She almost started to protest, but with her body now in active labor she couldn’t really argue against having him there with her, keeping her grounded. She leaned against him, allowing him to steady her.

“Are you okay?” he asked her when she relaxed again, able now to tell when she was having a contraction and when she was between them. He kept one arm wrapped around her front, taking the other to massage her back and shivering when she moaned. Despite Ziva not being in any shape for sex, the sound went straight to his core, and he had to stop himself from reacting. This was absolutely not the time for that.

Ziva hissed as another contraction took her, and she spoke through gritted teeth. “I am fine,” she replied, and Tony almost laughed at how untrue that statement was. Once she breathed through this contraction, she clarified her answer. “It seems much more intense this time than last time,” she began, then chuckled slightly. “Or maybe I do not really remember and it was exactly like this last time.”

“I can’t be sure,” Tony said, not wanting to anger her or sound presumptuous, “but I think it wasn’t this intense until much later last time. Like… it took longer for you to get to this point.”

“Well, my back has been bothering me all day, Tony. I have just been ignoring it because we needed to handle Tali. I had hoped – willed myself, actually – that it would not be full-blown labor until she went to sleep.”

“I guess it worked,” was all he said, and she laughed, leaning her head back and against his chest as he held her in the water of the small pool.

“The mind is a powerful weapon,” was all she responded, and she was tensing again with another contraction. The pain was intense and it felt as though it squeezed her entire midsection, starting with her back and working forward. Tony’s hands on her helped only slightly, but the water didn’t seem to be helping at all. He encouraged her through it, and she finally reached to the hand he’d rested on her stomach and took it in her own, leading him to the edge of the stream.

“Help me out,” she instructed, and he slid out of the water, grabbing his clothes and putting them back on before reaching down and pulling her up, holding her steady when another contraction caused her to tense up again. Tony was right – she _did_ seem further along in her labor this time, and maybe they would be lucky enough for her not to wake up Tali while she was giving birth, but there had to be some point at which their luck would run out entirely.

He walked her back to the house removing the gate and closing the door securely. He busied himself by gathering the same tarp that they’d used when Tali was born and lying it on the bed, then walking her to it so that she could lie comfortably while they waited for their second child to arrive.

There was nothing more difficult than attempting to be quiet while in the throes of giving birth, but as it was night time and they didn’t want to attract anything to them while they were occupied, they’d had to bring the entire affair indoors. Tali appeared to be fast asleep, but it would only be a matter of time before Ziva would be unable to keep herself quiet, and surely Tali would wake up at some point.

Even further complicating the matter was the fact that she was still breastfeeding, though she hoped to wean Tali off soon. Trouble was, once Tali saw the new baby nursing, she would likely want to go right back to it, and for a time, Ziva would probably have to contend with both of them. It was not ideal, but there was hardly anything she could do about it now, and Tali had so far been resistant to giving up the comfort of nursing.  

The thought was lost as soon as another contraction hit, and she was gritting her teeth through it, taking Tony’s hand and squeezing it tightly as she concentrated mostly on breathing. “You are right,” she said, pausing to wince through the pain. “It feels like it took me longer to get to this point last time,” she said breathlessly when it ended, “like someone hit the fast-forward button.”

Tony couldn’t stop the grin from spreading to his face at that analogy. “Well now you’re speaking my language,” he joked, just as another contraction hit her, and he helped her through it, keeping her as comfortable as he could.

When it was over, Ziva was breathing heavily, and she asked a question he hadn’t considered when he’d been joking before. “You don’t think it means something is wrong?”

He didn’t know. How could he? They’d done this before, but they had no real knowledge outside of that singular experience. For all they knew, it really hadn’t been as long as they’d thought when Ziva had been in labor with Tali. Maybe it had just felt longer because they didn’t know what they were doing and everything was a new challenge to overcome. Maybe now it just felt shorter because it wasn’t something they’d never done before.

Another contraction hit and he rubbed a wet cloth at her forehead, helping to ease the pain of the experience. Once she relaxed again, he caught her eye and answered the question she’d asked. “I don’t think anything is wrong, Ziva. You’re doing great. Maybe the body just… speeds it up because it knows how to do it already. Muscle memory or something.”

She nodded. “That… actually makes sense.”

There was hardly any point in worrying about it now anyway, she realized, as the baby seemed to be coming on its own terms whether they were ready for it or not. “At least…” she started, but then gritted her teeth as her body tightened with another contraction, “at least… we may be… lucky enough,” she gasped for breath as the pain suddenly became too great for her to keep speaking. Tony rubbed her forehead, whispering words of encouragement in soothing tones, and before long, she was able to relax again, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

“What were you saying?”

“Oh. I, uh…” she paused, trying to recall exactly what she had been about to say when she was in the middle of a contraction. “I… something about Tali but I can’t…” she paused, closing her eyes and trying to retrace her thoughts through the last contraction. “Oh!” she finally exclaimed, startling Tony to attentiveness. “I was thinking that she might not wake up, if we are lucky.”

“Well that would be appreciated,” he agreed, trying not to wince as she squeezed his hand as another contraction came on. He knew from the previous experience that the way she was grasping his hand now was nothing compared to how she would when it came time for her to push, but Ziva’s grip was unlike any other person’s. Labor and delivery definitely upped her game on that front.

“Ugh,” she grunted, and that familiar – yet at the same time, foreign – pressure she’d felt when she was in labor with Tali manifested, and she knew that she was probably close. Tony, for his part, was doing great. He had always known instinctively that he should follow her lead for almost as long as they’d been partners, but in the time since they’d left the civilized world and come to the jungle, his willingness to follow her on almost every front had saved them quite a bit of trouble. This was no exception.

“It’s time, isn’t it?” he asked, sensing the way her body was tensing up. He knew that he had no sense memory the way that Ziva did, but he remembered how her demeanor had subtly shifted last time when she was ready to push, and he barely needed to look at her to see her nod of confirmation. “I’m ready when you are,” he said when he met her gaze, and she smiled at him faintly. She was more than ready for this to be over. While this labor seemed a bit shorter than the last, it was still painful, and they couldn’t be through with it soon enough.

It wasn’t long before Ziva was panting with relief as Tony helped bring their second baby into the world, and this time, he handed the baby straight to Ziva so that she could do the honors of determining the sex. “We have another girl,” she beamed, her words slipping breathlessly from her, and soon Tony had taken her again so that he could clean her off, cut the umbilical cord, and handle all of the mess that came with the birth, afterbirth and all.

Finally, they were sitting quietly next to each other and staring down at their new baby, and soon she began to wail, so Ziva offered her breast. Similarly to the way in which Tali had immediately known what to do, so did this baby.

“So which name suits her?” Tony asked, deferring again to her wisdom. Tali had been named perfectly, and he couldn’t imagine any other name suiting their first daughter as well as Ziva’s sister’s namesake.

“She is definitely our Ashina,” Ziva said, looking lovingly down at the baby as she suckled. Ziva was sore and tired, but she was absolutely in love and she couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful new being they’d brought into this world.

“Ashina Rae DiNozzo,” Tony breathed softly, just as Tali began to show signs of waking up. Tony knew that it was his responsibility to retrieve her, especially since Ziva would probably be sore and tired for the next few days, but he was loath to leave his wife’s side as she gazed lovingly at their new daughter.

“We’re not going anywhere, Tony,” she breathed quietly as she stroked Ashina’s head lovingly. She looked much like Tali, with the same eyes – her mother’s eyes, Tony had always said, and her nose was a similar shape, as well. The same dark mass of curls adorned her head, as well. Ziva wondered if they would always resemble each other the way they had as babies.

Tony returned to sit next to Ziva and Ashina on the bed, carrying Tali over with them. Tali seemed curious about the baby but she sat happily munching on her own food as she watched the baby eat. “Tali, this is your sister,” Ziva said softly, caressing Ashina’s soft cheek again as she spoke.

“Iwa?” she said, attempting to repeat the word.

“Sister,” Ziva corrected, then pointed at herself. “Ima,” then at Tony, “Abba,” at Tali, “Tali,” and finally at Ashina. “Ashina.”

“Ina?”

“Not quite, baby. Ashina,” she repeated slowly, and Tali looked at the baby, poking her arm with her finger as she pointed.

“A-ina,” Tali enunciated, and Tony and Ziva smiled at each other over her head.

“She’s your sister, Tali,” Tony said softly. “The baby. Remember mama had a baby in her belly? That’s the baby,” he explained.

“Beebee,” she repeated, reaching tentatively to touch the baby’s soft head.

“Careful little lamb,” Ziva said softly. “That’s right, Tali, that’s the baby.”

“Ina?”

“Ashina,” Ziva said with a nod, smiling encouragingly at her oldest daughter. Her _oldest daughter,_ because she had more than one daughter now. How had they gotten so lucky?

Just then, she caught Tony’s eye and realized he must have been thinking the same thing. “The three most beautiful girls in the world, and all three of them are here with me,” he said softly.

“I love you,” Ziva said softly, leaning into him and kissing him gently, trying not to jostle Ashina as she did so.

“Ahv-oo,” Tali echoed, causing both of her parents to laugh. Tony leaned forward and kissed the top of her head before then tousling her hair, and Ziva reached over and squeezed Tali’s chin.

“Love you too, Tali,” Ziva said, not wanting to leave her out. “And I love you,” she cooed quietly at Ashina, who had drifted off at the breast, her cheeks full and rosy after having had her first meal.

“And I love you all,” Tony said finally, punctuating the statement by kissing his wife again and then staying there in that perfect moment of time with his family for as long as he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought you might all kill me if I didn't include a water scene, given what we know about where they live, so I hope that this didn't disappoint. 
> 
> Things are really beginning to heat up now! Look for Chapter 25 on Saturday.


	25. The Meaning of Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafi Aman begins to become unhinged as the search continues. The DiNozzo family adjusts to its newest member and Tony and Ziva struggle to find intimacy. 
> 
> Content warning: this chapter contains smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two Hamilton references in this chapter. Bonus points if you find them.

They had gotten absolutely nowhere with this search.

Every source they talked to, everyone who had ever been in contact with Ziva David had turned out to be a dead end, and they’d tried with the intimidation tactics, and the federal agents from both Mossad and NCIS had all but laughed at them when asked for information. No, they’d merely reported the contact to their next higher-up, and the Americans had gone ahead and heightened the search with every attempt to make contact.

It absolutely infuriated Rafi Aman, and he was not one to be trifled with. Why was it that they could not see his vision? Why was it that the Americans could not understand the merits in taking out this dire threat to the future he could almost certainly grasp in his fingers, if only they could take out Ziva David?

Killing the source had been nothing more than a release of frustration, but he needed these Americans to understand that he meant business, and he wasn’t sure they really did. Sure, they were looking for him, he knew that… but the Americans seemed to think so poorly of him. That he was a madman; a psychopath. _I am no psychopath,_ he thought to himself, his anger rising. _I am a visionary, a man with a plan to eliminate the American foothold_. He and his men had killed the source, yes, but she had only been a message: He was not giving up on Ziva David.

Sokar, however, had chosen to adjust their plan just a little bit, by getting the American agencies to leave them alone to search. His plan to have Micah Karim take the fall for everything had been brilliant, but Aman was struck now with the fear that the Americans wouldn’t know who _truly_ had been the master, the genius behind it all. He wanted all of them, from even the tiniest soldier or policeman, to know that Rafi Aman was the driving force behind their pitiful nation’s downfall. Oh, he would still be after Ziva David, and when he found her, he would be sure to let everyone know that they’d fallen for this ruse and that it had cost them their agents – and so much _more._

At the moment, however, his three most experienced operatives were standing before him, each watching apprehensively as he took several long drags of his cigar, none of them daring to so much as cough when he blew the smoke directly in their faces. Ayaz Sokar sat in a chair in the corner of the room, appearing to all who noticed him as though he was entirely bored of the proceedings. He fiddled methodically with the trigger of his gun, smirking when it clicked forward, releasing a reverberating echo that made each of the three men standing before Rafi Aman startle.

_Good._

“How is the search coming along?” Aman asked, though he knew the answer. It wasn’t. They’d searched nearly a quarter of Africa and turned up nothing. Nothing but some aboriginal tribes, all of whom were much of a much darker complexion than the people they were looking for, didn’t speak a lick of any language his people could understand, and seemed to have absolutely no information.

Letting them live had been a gift, one they probably didn’t even understand they’d been given. Had Ziva and her partner been hiding among them, they would have stood out, and therefore Aman was certain that the two Americans were not hiding amongst any tribes throughout Africa.

None of his men wanted to speak, Aman noted without surprise. To admit their failure to him would certainly piss him off, and none of them particularly enjoyed pissing him off.

“It’s not,” Daniel finally said, after the silence had gone so thick that he couldn’t stand it anymore. Surely, the boss knew that they’d turned up no new leads. Sokar continued to sit in the corner, watching disinterestedly.

“I… am… aware,” Aman said slowly, standing up and pointing at one of them as he spoke each individual word. He leaned forward menacingly, practically growling at the incompetent men before him. If these were his best, then what other pathetic excuses for men did he have in his operation?

“Why are you having so much trouble with this task? It is just a woman and a man. Two people. We know roughly when they left, and from where. Surely you cannot be so _incapable_ that you cannot at least determine which DIRECTION THEY WERE HEADING?”

All three men leaned backward as Aman raised his voice, recoiling in their own ways. They’d all seen his anger before, but never this close and personal. No, usually when Aman flew off the handle, he was yelling at a significantly larger group of people, typically in a large building with quite a bit of space between them, not this tiny office with little for acoustic buffering between the three operatives and their very annoyed boss.

None of them spoke, knowing better than to open their mouths at this point. If Rafi Aman wanted to yell at them, then he would do so, and no one would see fit to interrupt him. “Where the hell is Ziva David?”

Again, none of them spoke, watching warily as he paced before them, the tension in the room so thick that it practically settled on their shoulders. “You will _find her._ Do you _understand me?”_

Daniel, Levi, and Tamir stood like statues, and Aman continued, taking out a knife and running his finger along the tip of it. All three of the men before him tried not to flinch at the motion, though each one inwardly hoped that the knife wasn’t headed for their own guts. “I grow tired of these games. This has gone on long enough. _Find her.”_

All three men nodded resolutely. Aman stopped in front of Levi, looking him up and down. “You,” the leader said, and Levi gulped audibly, a fact that seemed to please Aman, judging by the way he smirked in response.

“Where were you last looking for Ziva David?”

“Southern part of Somalia… sir,” he said, clearing his throat lightly before swallowing another nervous gulp. He started to open his mouth to explain why they had changed course and started looking there, but Aman spoke again before he had the chance.

“Did you know,” Aman said, not acknowledging the words his operative had uttered, nor stepping away from the nervous young man, who was doing everything in his power not to anger his boss whenever he asked him a question. “That Ziva David was held captive in Africa about… four, maybe five years ago? In _Somalia_ , I believe it was.” Aman paused, turning and looking at his other operatives, who all stared forward wordlessly.

“From what I hear, Saleem Ulman – you may have heard of him, you might even be fans of his work – did not treat her with a whole lot of kindness. If it hadn’t been for her stubborn American friends, she would have died there, you know.” Levi knew this, and he knew that his partners knew this. They’d had the same intel on Ziva David that their boss had had access to, and they’d gathered much more information on her in the time that they’d been looking for her.

“Now with that information,” Aman drawled, finally stepping away from Levi and looking over at Tamir and Daniel, his eyes narrowing angrily as he spoke, his voice raising more than a few decibels, “DO YOU THINK THAT ZIVA DAVID WOULD WILLINGLY TRAIPSE BACK INTO SOMALIA?”

“All respect sir,” Tamir said meekly, praying inwardly that he wouldn’t get his head bitten off, “Mr. Sokar gave the order.” He noted how both Sokar and Aman’s eyes narrowed at his attempts to pass the buck, and he continued quickly, rambling. “We thought she would be aware that we knew that, and that we’d think it would be the last place she would ever go, so it would be the perfect place for he to hide out. That’s why we–”

“SHUT UP!” Tamir shut his mouth immediately, straightening up, his eyes wide open.

“What you _think_ you know about her is clearly irrelevant now, isn’t it? Stop looking for her in Africa. She isn’t there.”

Daniel gulped, then took a deep breath and spoke, fearing that he might also get his head bitten off but proceeding regardless. He looked at Sokar, who didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty for having sent them in the wrong direction. “Do you have information?”

Sokar said nothing. Aman narrowed his eyes at Daniel but didn’t step toward him, merely looking in his direction. “My information,” he said, lifting the knife up and pointing it in his general direction, “is that she’s not in Africa. I have been watching the Americans, apparently much better than you have. They’ve begun looking for David and DiNozzo, but it hasn’t been in Africa. Their search has led them to the South American continent. Now that they are not looking for _us,_ they will lead us right to _them._ It is now a race between _us_ and _them_ ,” he finished, picking up his cigar and taking another long drag before speaking, feeling as though he was beginning to sound more than a little repetitive.

He looked at Sokar, who seemed as surprised as the other three men in the room. “Spread the word, gentlemen. She is not on this continent, and to continue looking here would be a waste of our time.” He twisted the knife between his fingers as he spoke, as casually as if he were twiddling a pencil.

“Now go find her.”

* * *

Tali was sitting on the bed next to Ziva, her back leaning against the wall behind her. Ziva was cradling Ashina, who was nursing quietly. Now that the baby had been born, Tali was completely fascinated by her, and always wanted to be nearby. “She adores her sister,” Tony remarked as he watched from across the room, smirking as Tali reached over and poked Ziva’s boob.

“I had worried about that,” Ziva murmured, quietly running her hands over the baby’s soft head of hair, then smiling as Tali mimicked her motions, patting the baby gently with her chubby fingers. She looked up at her mother and smiled, her teeth showing brightly as she looked up at her mother proudly.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to be surrounded by so many girls.”

Ziva looked up and snorted. “You expect me to believe that? When we met, you couldn’t be more than three feet from a woman who was hanging on your every word.”

“Well this is different.”

“You can admit that you never pictured yourself as a family man, Tony. It’s all right. It took me quite a while to picture you as one myself.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense, but he knew that she hadn’t said it maliciously. Still, he crossed the room, sitting down on the bed and scooting back to the wall, sitting neatly beside Tali and taking Ashina’s hand, watching as her fingers curled around his much larger finger. He knew it was a reflex that all babies had, but it never ceased to amaze him, this connection between him and his flesh and blood. His daughter.

“We have been so fortunate, you know,” he said after several minutes of silence, reaching for Tali and settling her down on his lap. It was getting late, and she would probably be ready to fall asleep soon.

“We have,” she agreed, sighing contentedly. Not for the first time, she wondered if they’d have all this if they hadn’t moved out here. _Moved_ out here, she thought to herself. Like there had been any choice. Like there hadn’t been a group of terrorists that were –

Her eyes went wide. The _terrorists._ The whole reason they were out here, and she’d almost forgotten that they should have been her solitary focus. _Oh, god._ “What’s wrong?”

“Tony I have practically forgotten about Widow in these past few days. I cannot believe I have been so careless. They are surely still after us, and I’m sitting here talking poetically about how lucky we are to be here like we decided to move away from DC and start a family.”

Tony shrugged. “And? You’ve been exhausted from giving birth. Is it so terrible that you were focused on being a mother first?” She pursed her lips, but didn’t respond. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. It’s been more than two years now, at least. They haven’t found us yet. Maybe they’ve given up.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a lot to hope for. Two years was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and if what Ziva had told him was true, Widow probably wouldn’t have given up quite this quickly.

“They haven’t.”

He knew this, but he still couldn’t help asking about it anyway. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I _know_ these men. Or at least their leader. He will not give up.” She stopped, drawing a breath, slowly enough so that she didn’t wake up Ashina, who had fallen asleep. “The babies, Tony. What are we going to do if Widow arrives? We have so much more to lose now.”

“We will fight.”

“But Tony, the moment they see that we have children they will have more ways to hurt us.” A panic unlike any she had ever felt before began to take over her, and she felt the need to get up and run, run far away, something that was not an option with a baby currently asleep against her skin and another child who followed her anywhere she went. Sure, she had thought of this before, when Tali was born, but somehow all rationality seemed to escape her at the moment in her anxiety. What would they do if they were found _now?_ “We will both need to fight if they find us. It’s not like one of us can run off with the children while one of us stays behind.”

“I would let you run, you know. You and the children. We could designate a place for you to hide, so I can find you when it’s all over. Maybe the cave,” he suggested, referring to the cave where he’d dug up the clay so long ago.  

“No. I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself for me, for us. We’re a team, Tony, and I need you to help fight. More than that, I need you to be alive.”

“You’re so sure I would die?”

She looked at him incredulously, unsure that he understood the magnitude of what could come. Sure, they’d been training, but he was in no position to singlehandedly take out Widow if they all came at once. “Do you think they will just bring a couple of men? I would not be surprised if they brought more than a dozen men with them, all armed to the teeth and more than willing to kill us on the spot if we give them the chance. They will not hesitate to put a bullet in… all four of us.” She choked on the words, practically unable to give them a voice. It was unspeakable, unimaginable, and she found that for the first time in her life, she really had something worth losing.

“We just have to keep training then. We’ll have to keep our guard up. It’s hasn’t been _that_ long since Ashina was born, and I didn’t think you would be up to sparring just yet since you’ve been so tired.” She glared at him, but she didn’t say anything, and he continued, ignoring her annoyed expression. Ziva would be stubborn for all of eternity, and even though he could tell she was tired from having gone through childbirth and now the lack of sleep that having two toddlers entailed, he knew that she would be terribly unlikely to admit it, despite her progress toward being more open and vulnerable.

“Relax, Ziva. If it takes that long, we’ll teach the kids to handle weapons, too. We will fight, Ziva. I’ve never wanted to fight for anything more.” He reached to her cheek and wiped a tear away, pulling her to him and allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

“I guess there’s one good thing,” she mused into his shirt, noting that both of their daughters were now fast asleep, Ashina in her lap and Tali in his.

“Hmm?”

“At least I am no longer pregnant, and therefore in much better shape to fight.” She smirked, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. _For now, anyway,_ she thought to herself. Last time, it hadn’t been that long before she’d gotten pregnant again. They’d really have to work on that. There had to be some way of making condoms out of something out here.  

“Well if they arrive tomorrow, I’ll know that we’ll be okay then.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” she whispered, finally lifting her head off of his shoulder and slowly sliding off the bed, taking care not to wake Ashina as she set the baby down in her bed. It wouldn’t be long before she woke again for another feeding, but they could put Tali to bed and at least try to get a couple of hours of sleep, if that was even possible with all the new things she now had to worry about. It wasn’t like the thought of Widow had entirely disappeared, it was just that the threat had somehow seemed more distant in the weeks since Ashina had been born.

Tony slowly slid off the bed too, helping Ziva get Tali settled. “You know,” he began, wondering if he was going to incur her wrath by bringing it up, “maybe we should have bought some guns anyway. Just to have them, for no other reason than to use if Widow were to find us.”

“I had thought about that,” she mused, leaning forward to kiss Tali’s forehead as she stirred slightly, and then stepping away and sitting down on the bed. “But it is not easy to buy guns in many countries. Most are not like the United States, where you can go to a gun dealer and get one in a matter of minutes and no one will pay you any mind.”

“I guess I never really considered that.”

Ziva smiled slightly. Tony was more worldly than most Americans, but he still had some naivety when it came to the world outside of his home country. “The viewpoint that everyone has a right to own a firearm is something uniquely American. Here, we would have had to jump through considerably more hoops. There is a black market, but we did not want to be memorable. All it would take is one dealer who wanted to make a quick fortune. Widow has almost assuredly put our faces out to everyone they could. We’d have been found.”

“But isn’t that a risk we took everywhere before we made it here?”

“Well _yes,”_ she said, trying not to speak loudly enough to wake the children, “but being remembered for walking through an airport or a Sunday market is far less likely than being remembered buying a gun.”

Tony mulled over that, accepting the answer for the time being before responding, “Fair enough.” Stifling a yawn, he walked over to where she sat on the bed, taking his shoes off and stuffing them underneath it before climbing onto it.

“Do you think they’ll sleep tonight?” he asked, this time not bothering to try to keep himself from yawning.

“Will you even wake up if they don’t?” Ziva teased, and Tony shrugged sheepishly. He’d always been the sounder sleeper of the two, which he often regretted. He wished that there was something he could do to help Ziva with the babies, but since they didn’t have any bottles for him to assist with feeding she had often allowed him to just sleep, unless he woke up. And in that case, she’d allow him to handle the diapers, which he had always been surprisingly okay with.  

“You could wake me,” was all he said, but she shook her head, and he smiled in response. They’d had this argument more than once, but similar to the way in which he had always been reluctant to interrupt _her_ sleep, so too was she.

Tony yawned again, catching Ziva’s eye as he did so, and she yawned as well. She wasn’t terribly tired yet, if she was being honest, but there was something to be said for snuggling up under the covers with her husband. “Come on,” she said, sliding under the cover and lifting the blanket up to motion him inside. He didn’t hesitate, crawling into the cocoon of her warmth.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he scooted toward her, leaning in and kissing her hungrily, eliciting a surprised moan of pleasure.

He always loved the way her body felt pressed up against his, and tonight was no exception. Even through the clothing they both wore to bed, the heat between them was intoxicating, and he trailed his hand up her back to her neck and slowly into her hair, using his hand to guide the angle of their kisses.

“Mmm,” Ziva moaned against him, shifting her weight so that she lay more on her back than on her side, taking him with her. “Thought you were tired,” she breathed against his lips, and he merely responded with a hum of his own before taking his lips in hers again, feeling himself stirring to life at the way she melted into him.

“Is it too soon?” he asked huskily when he pulled apart, and Ziva shook her head. Ashina was just over seven weeks old now, and she felt no trepidation about sharing intimacy with him again, only longing.

“Maybe we can take it… _slow…”_ she cooed, licking his ear as she spoke. She delighted in the way he twitched against her at that, and she threaded her fingers through his hair as she pulled his mouth down upon hers again, gasping for breath between fast, frenzied kisses.

Tony rested his hand on her hip, trying his hardest to simply enjoy this slow burn building between them, but it was so hard to resist simply devouring her. She drove him _crazy,_ every move she made, and he couldn’t imagine a moment in time when he wouldn’t find her irresistible.

He ran his thumb slowly along her hip bone, teasing her there before shifting slightly, trailing his fingertips along her torso with as he did so, loving the way she hissed at the contact between them. “I wanna touch you,” he breathed softly, punctuating his statement with a small kiss and feeling her nod between them.

Slowly, he worked his hand underneath her underwear, trailing his fingers through the coarse hairs there, feeling the heat already building between her thighs. Ziva sucked in a breath at the contact, her skin sensitive to even this slightest touch, and relaxed as he began to graze his thumb between her legs, rubbing gently through her folds and pausing to stroke at her clit.

Ziva sighed softly, then moaned as his touching became more insistent. She was already beginning to feel that familiar tightness in her body as she started to become wound up, his strokes igniting the desire long dormant after the rigor of childbirth. Parting her legs further to give him better access, she canted her hips against him, rocking slowly toward his touch, shuddering as a chill went through her, causing her to gasp against his ear.

“I feel like it’s been so long,” he breathed into her hair, and her core clenched as his words only fueled the desire between them.

She responded only by grasping the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to hers, parting his lips with her tongue and taking him roughly into a thorough kiss. She bit and nibbled at his lips as he caressed her slick folds, allowing him to swallow her deep moan when he entered her with one finger, slowly gliding into her and teasing her insides.

Ziva’s moan awakened something primal in him and he fought the urge to rip his pants off and surge into her. His cock was already painfully hard just from the moment he’d reached into her panties and now he desperately wanted to feel her around him, wet and tight and pulsing him into oblivion.

“Touch me,” he begged, wanting to feel her hand wrapped around him, the loving caress that only she could provide. Tilting her head to allow his mouth access to hers again, she ran her free hand up his side, wrapping that hand around his neck as well and keeping his mouth anchored to her own. She groaned again as he drove his fingers deep inside of her, then ran her hands slowly from his neck to his shoulders, stopping to dig her nails into his skin as he crooked his fingers and hit _that_ spot, causing her toes to curl and her vision to blur momentarily.

Undeterred, she resumed her movements, sliding her hands down his arms, rocking her hips toward him as he continued to work his fingers inside her. When she reached his elbows she moved her arms to his torso, planting her hands along the taut skin there and sliding slowly downward, hooking her thumbs underneath the hemline of his pants and pushing them down just enough and chuckling when his cock sprang free.

The cabin air was cool and it was a shock to his newly exposed member, but soon the chill of the room was forgotten when Ziva snaked one hand around to the front of his body to stroke him, wrapping her fingers tightly around the base of him and twisting her way to the top, thumbing the tip and rubbing the precum around the head of his cock, causing him to gasp.

“I want you, Tony,” she breathed softly, her words low and seductive despite the fact that she was barely speaking above a whisper, “but you cannot come in me this time. Not until we find some sort of birth control.”

He pouted in protest, but only for a moment. Ziva was right. They couldn’t keep up this pattern indefinitely. If they were going to have more children, then they’d need to relocate first, preferably back home.

“I just need you,” was all he said, giving his agreement to her statement, and he hissed as she resumed stroking him, her legs spreading further to allow him better access. He groaned when she tightened her grip on his cock, her expert strokes driving him absolutely crazy as he panted against her, his fingers moving to the rhythm of her hand.

“Lie back,” she instructed, and he rolled off his side and to his back, lifting up his hips to allow her to pull his pants all the way down and off of him. As she crawled her way back up so that she could kiss him, she reached between their legs, rubbing the head of his cock along her slick center. “Oh, _Tony,”_ she breathed, her voice hardly above a whisper as she shivered with anticipation.

He pulled her head down to meet his, despite the fact that she was still teasing him along her entrance. Kissing him hungrily, she slowly sank down upon him, causing both of them to gran deeply. “I love how much you want me,” he gasped as she sat upon him their hips pressing into one another, his toes curling at the way she felt wrapped tightly around his aching member.

“I will _always_ want you,” she breathed, leaning forward to kiss him deeply, slowly rocking her hips as she did so. She swallowed back the deep moan he uttered at her movements, biting his lip before gasping out her own pleasure. “So good,” she breathed against his lips, and he thrust upward in agreement, causing her to cry out.

Tony drew her head closer to his so that he could whisper in her ear. “Quiet,” he admonished, and she bit her lip and tried to resist another loud groan as he bucked his hips upward again.

Rocking her hips in time with his own movements, she traced her hand along his jawline, grazing her thumb along his bottom lip. “You make it very _hard,”_ she said coyly, punctuating the statement with a definitive roll of her body and _he_ cried out, forgetting his earlier warning to be quiet.

She was on fire and the only thing that could put her out was Tony’s scorching touch. Every movement, every caress, drove her further into a maddening inferno from which the only respite was in his arms. “Faster?” he asked, his eyes darkening as he looked into hers, a lust overwhelming his senses as she tortured him with each roll of her hips.

“Mmm,” was all she said, picking up the pace, but only slightly. His hands were everywhere: in her hair, on her face, scratching down her back, grabbing her ass, and he was kissing her everywhere he could reach. He couldn’t get enough of her, no matter how much he touched, no matter how much he tasted.

A small peep came from the other side of the room, and Ziva stilled, her face turned toward the basket where Ashina lay. “Is she…?”

“Shh,” he breathed, caressing her hip and urging her to continue. “She’ll sleep. Please don’t stop,” he begged, rocking his hips up and into her to convince her to keep going. Ziva stayed in place for another moment, waiting for any other signs that their daughter had woken but heard none, and she heaved a sigh of relief, leaning forward onto her elbows.

“Where were we?”

Tony grinned, licking his lip as he grasped her hips tightly and pulled her into him. “Right about… _here…”_ he answered as he reached between her legs to rub at her clit, causing her to hiss at the contact.

 _“Oh,”_ she gasped, clenching around him as he teased her with his fingers, rubbing her _exactly_ the way she liked. “Oh… you’re so… _good…_ at that…” she gasped, her pace increasing as her release began to build. She was gasping for breath now, her entire body aflame as she chased her pleasure, desperate to fall apart and let Tony catch her.

“Ah,” he responded, pausing to kiss her slowly, biting her bottom lip between his teeth. “But the way you ride my cock is perfection,” he countered, sliding his free hand up the side of her body and reaching into her hair to tangle his fingers at the back of her neck. She shivered, rolling her hips into him and gasping at the shift in angle, then cried out as he thrust up into her – _hard._

Just then a quick, short wail came from the other side of the room, and both of them stilled. “Shit,” Ziva muttered under her breath, feeling her breasts begin to tighten as she sensed her daughter’s awakening.

“I’m so close,” Tony practically whined, momentarily slowing – but not entirely stopping – his ministrations. Ashina let out another wail from her side of the room and Ziva huffed out a heavy sigh of frustration, puffing her hair off of her face as she slid up and off of him, giving him a quick kiss as she reached for something to put on.

“We will have to finish later,” she said, unable to hide the regret in her voice. He had felt _incredible_ and it had been so long, but she couldn’t in good conscience continue making love with her husband while her daughter lay there crying and helplessly hungry. Sex would simply have to wait.

Tony pouted a little, but he understood, though he wished they could have finished. He was still painfully hard and Ziva bending over as she picked up his pants did nothing to calm his raging hard-on, but the baby had to come first.

He reached for the pants Ziva had tossed on the bed as she stepped over to Ashina’s basket, bending over and cooing to her gently as she picked her up. Almost immediately the child settled, and Ziva moved her shirt out of the way so that the baby could feed, sitting down at the table in the kitchen area rather than sitting next to her tightly-wound husband.

Sharing such a small space definitely had unfortunate awkward consequences. “Wait for me,” Ziva said softly as Ashina took her meal, and Tony settled back into the bed, facing the wall. As much as he loved Ziva and found her alluring at almost every occasion, there was something weird about watching her feed their child while simultaneously being rock hard. He opted not to stroke himself, choosing instead to wait for Ziva to return so they could finish what they’d started.

Ashina didn’t take long to feed, and soon enough she was again drifting off to sleep, her cheeks plump and rosy as she sighed in contentment. Ziva cleaned her up and gave her a quick change before setting her down with a kiss, whispering, “Good night, my little dove.” She shivered with the anticipation of getting back into the bed with her husband and feeling him inside of her once more, and she pulled off the clothing she’d been wearing before sliding back into the bed and reaching around Tony’s waist and kissing his shoulder.

“Tony,” she breathed, her voice low and seductive, but he didn’t stir. _That bastard,_ she thought to herself as she realized he had fallen asleep. “Tony,” she said more insistently, shaking him roughly and reaching down his pants to stroke him, but he didn’t budge. Frustrated, she groaned out loud, uncaring whether Ashina, Tali, _and_ Tony would wake. “Damn it, Tony,” she said, her voice sounding pitifully like a whine, but she didn’t care. He’d gotten her tightly wound up and somehow fallen asleep, despite the fact that she _knew_ he’d been just as high strung as she had.

Heaving a deep sigh, she sank back down on the bed, her head hitting the pillow as tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t know why she was so upset, after all, it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been sexually frustrated, but one thing she’d learned since becoming a mother was that she didn’t necessarily need a reason to cry anymore. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, then reached her hand between her legs, deciding to finish herself off if that was what it took, when suddenly Tony spun around quickly and practically tackled her, kissing her deeply and causing her to yelp with surprise.

“Damn it, Tony!” she said again, trying not to raise her voice too much as she smacked his shoulder in frustration.

He grinned as he rocked his hips down and toward her, feeling her back arch to lean toward him as he rubbed his still-clothed erection against her aching core. “You thought I fell asleep?” he teased, rhythmically rolling his hips toward her and making sure she could feel exactly how _awake_ he was.

“Just take those pants off and get in me, _please,”_ she begged, moving her hand down to help him with the offending garment. He wasted no time in doing both things, and soon he was joining with her, eliciting twin groans of pleasure as they _finally_ began to pick up where they left off.

“Are you close?” he teased, pumping into her expertly, and she nodded, lacking the words to adequately describe just how tightly wound she was. She’d known sexual frustration, yes, but having to stop in the middle of sex – and as close as they’d been – brought it to an entirely different level. She lifted one leg up to wrap around him and he began to thrust even more forcefully, causing her to gasp with each thrust of his cock. The bed was creaking heavily, its frame hitting against the wall of their cabin as they moved, and soon her own cries were starting to ring out along with it, silence be damned.

 _“Please,”_ she begged, her toes starting to curl as he shifted slightly, a new angle bringing her that much closer to the edge. “Touch me,” she ordered, reaching for his hand and dragging it down to her clit, letting him work his own particular magic, the likes of which always had her seeing stars.

Her nails were digging into his skin when he grunted, signaling that he, too, was close. Ziva’s eyes shot open, meeting with his, and she reminded him, “Remember… you can’t…” she trailed off, and he nodded, his face knotted in concentration as he rode her to oblivion.

“You’d better…” he began, his voice sounding strained, his entire body feeling hot and tight with the release that was almost certainly soon to come. He was trying to hold off so that she could come first, but she felt _so_ good and he wasn’t sure if her orgasm would trigger his own before he could pull out. “You need to come, Ziva,” he begged, his thrusting growing erratic as he felt himself on the verge of exploding.

“I’m right there,” she breathed, lifting her head to look down and seeing them joined; watching the way his cock repeatedly entered her as he rubbed his fingers through her clit. The visual did it, and she threw her head back, crying out his name as she felt her entire body quiver with pleasure. Tony gave only a few more thrusts to help her ride it out before he quickly pulled from her, rapidly pumping his fist as he shot his release across her stomach, collapsing on top of her and panting heavily.

“That was too close,” he said softly, turning to kiss her lazily as he struggled to catch his breath.

Her own voice was breathy, her body shivering as she clung to him in her weakened, post-orgasmic state. “I know,” she replied, her voice a puff of warm air against his ear. “But we can’t…” she said, and he nodded slightly, not needing her to continue. They couldn’t have another child, not here. Even today had been a risk, as it was entirely possible to still get pregnant with pulling out.

“We will find a way,” he assured her, kissing her gently again before reaching for his pants. With his pants, he wiped the mess off of her stomach and slid out of the bed to grab a different pair. That task completed, he stepped back into the bed, pulling the covers up and over them and sliding his hand around Ziva’s waist before kissing her neck and saying, “Good night.”

“Mmm,” she said, leaning into him for warmth. “Good night, Tony,” she whispered, and settled against him and into a deep, satisfied sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 26 on Wednesday.


	26. On the Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva begin to feel as though someone has found them, and they make plans to leave their little cabin.

The sound was so out of the ordinary that Ziva almost didn’t register it right away, but she bolted up in the bed when she realized what it was that she was hearing.

A helicopter. A helicopter that sounded as though it was close – and drawing even closer to their home.

_Oh god._

“Tony, wake up,” Ziva said, nudging him and trying to contain the panic that was rising in her throat, a lump forming and her heart beginning to pound wildly. Tony sat up, at first looking disoriented, but soon recognized the sound, his eyes widening with fear.

“Shit,” he muttered, throwing the covers off of himself and sliding out of the bed, worrying about what would happen if this was the moment, if this was the night that Widow would finally find them.

“They can’t see us, right? You made sure that we camouflaged this place, right?” His voice began to increase in volume as he spoke, forgetting momentarily that both of the girls were fast asleep, though if Widow were to come knocking on their door, that would hardly matter.

“I do not believe they will be able to see us, no, but it is also night time, so… oh God,” she breathed, her hand involuntarily lifting to her mouth to cover the gasp she couldn’t contain.

“What?”

“What if they have heat sensing equipment? _Tony,”_ she gasped again, her anxiety rising to the point where she felt as though she was beginning to tremble. Ziva had always relied on adrenaline to get her through difficult fights, but this was no ordinary fight. There was so much more at stake now, and if this was the day that their battle with Widow was to be held, then she would fight with everything she had.

Tony didn’t respond. He knew exactly what they had to do, and so he merely picked up the weapons and handed Ziva her bow and arrows, watching as she strapped them to her body as he slung the crossbow over his. He then grabbed Ziva’s satchel and started putting food and water inside it, gathering what he could in his urgency and slinging it over his shoulder. Carefully and as quickly as possible, he picked up Tali from her bed, hoping that this would not cause her to start wailing, alerting any and all predators to their location.

At the same time, Ziva bent down and pulled Ashina up, gathering her in her arms and arranging her in the sling. It was dark, and there was no moonlight with which to see where they were going, but soon Tony and Ziva were out of their house and heading quickly down the path they’d memorized to the nearby cave, hoping that its thick stone walls would somehow obscure any heat sensors from locating their bodies. The rock above the cave was thick, but it might not be thick enough. The depth of rock and other surfaces through which heat-vision could still detect variations in temperature was not something Ziva had ever taken the time to learn.

They could still hear the helicopter flying closer as they reached the cave, sliding quickly inside and heading as far back as they dared. It was pitch black inside, which meant that anything could be waiting for them, and of course they didn’t have a flashlight or even a match. Anything that could light their way would be a beacon to their location. They were walking in blind.

As they ventured further into the cave, the sound from the helicopter began to fade, though Tony wasn’t sure if that was because the thick stone walls or because the helicopter was heading in another direction. Feeling along the side of the cave, his eyes finally adjusting enough to barely make out Ziva’s form, he wondered how long they’d stay here.

Honestly, if Widow was here and they happened to come down right in their backyard, there would be no hiding that people had been living in their shelter. All of their belongings were in there and everything was kept neat – no overgrowth or abundance of brush. They would know that its occupants weren’t far.

The cave was well hidden, but there were plenty of ways that they could be discovered. Even with their weapons, they’d be sitting ducks in here. “Ziva,” he whispered, surprised that neither of the girls had woken up yet.

“Shh,” she instructed, tilting her head toward the sky as if listening for the sound of the helicopter. Tony couldn’t hear it, either, but he wasn’t sure if it was safe to head back to the house yet. Or if it would ever be safe to head back.

“Is it them?”

“Shh,” she said again, more insistently this time, and that was the moment that Ashina chose to wake up, her pitiful wails echoing throughout the cave. Ziva quickly maneuvered her so that she would settle on her breast, knowing that one surefire way to keep a baby quiet was to occupy its mouth, and Ashina was no different. She was immediately set on eating, soft whimpers escaping as she ate greedily. “I don’t know,” she finally whispered in response to his question. They’d heard planes and choppers before, of course, but none that sounded so close to the ground as this one had. It could be Widow, but it might not be. Low-flying helicopters were not terribly abnormal in most parts of the world.

Tony watched her closely, his eyes not quite able to make out her expression. “What do we do?”

“We wait,” was the only response, and Tony didn’t say anything for several long moments. How long before Ziva would consider it safe to venture back to the house? Would they have to make the decision to leave – to pack up everything they’d amassed and head somewhere else? To come to the conclusion that they’d been found, and that it would be safer to start over in another part of the world? How would they even manage that if they did need to leave?

“For how long?” was all he asked after minutes of silence.

“As long as it would take for a team of terrorists to come down, check the place out, scout around the area, and determine that we aren’t here,” she replied, though she didn’t specify exactly how long that was. Best guess was that they’d be here at least an hour, maybe more than that. He leaned against the stone wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor, hoping that it wasn’t damp. Satisfied that it wasn’t, he leaned his head back, straining to hear anything from outside the cave and failing.

The next thing he was aware of was Ziva shaking him slightly, causing him to jerk awake. Tali was still knocked out in his arms, and Ashina appeared to be fast asleep in Ziva’s, though it was so dark that he couldn’t really tell. His back was sore, but he felt oddly well rested.

“I have crept toward the opening of the cave, and I hear no signs of the helicopter. I believe it is safe for us to venture back to the house.”

“Do you think it was them? How long was I asleep?”

“I don’t know if it was them,” she replied, and he could hear the doubt in her voice despite it being barely above a whisper. “And you’ve been asleep for hours. There was no need for you to be awake.”

“What if it’s an ambush?”

“We have the weapons,” she reminded him, though she had to admit that she hadn’t thought of that. It was certainly possible that they’d dropped a couple of operatives off to lie in wait for them. They could certainly fight off a pair of assassins with the weaponry they had, and they’d be gone before any more of them could show up to attempt to finish the job. “I do not think they would leave a few men behind. They will not take the chance of those men being killed, because Widow will know that if we dispose of their advance team that we will leave this place immediately, and they will have to continue to hunt us. That’s the last thing they will want.”

Tony didn’t respond, so she continued. “They will more than likely send about a dozen men at once. They will want to severely outnumber us. They will not allow us to pick them off one at a time.”

“Do you think we should pack up and leave anyway?”

“It might not have been them. And it’s not just us anymore,” she rationalized, her hand lovingly caressing Ashina’s head as she dozed against her mother’s skin. “We will not be able to make nearly enough ground to distance ourselves from this spot, not with the babies.”

“Would we have been able to make that much ground if it had been just us?”

“Probably not, but we’d have had a better chance.” She didn’t want to be on the run, not anymore. She and Tony had settled here comfortably, thinking that it was so highly unlikely that they’d be found out here, but now it appeared that they might have been. And even if this helicopter had merely been a fluke, someone having fun flying over the jungle, how could they take the chance? It would not be smart to stay here if there was even a tiny chance they’d been compromised.

Tony seemed to be thinking along those same lines. “I still think we should leave. You said it yourself. You think it might have been them. If we’re compromised, we can’t stay here, even though we both know it will be difficult to make much ground with the girls in tow.”

Ziva sighed, but she knew that he was right. “We have amassed so much more stuff since we first came out here. I do not know how we can hope to carry it all.”

“We won’t be able to. We’ll have to decide what’s a necessity and what isn’t, and pack accordingly.”

Ziva seemed lost in thought for several minutes, staring out into sliver of light indicating their re-entry into forest. When she finally spoke, it was in a quiet, resigned tone. “Well, shall we head back then?”

Tony didn’t respond other than to nod, and soon they were slowly making their way back to their house. It was no longer dark, that much they knew, but they didn’t know how long it had been day. The forest was eerily quiet save for their steps on crunching leaves, and they didn’t speak as they carefully walked through the jungle.

When they reached the house, Ashina was starting to wake again, so Tony set about getting Tali settled in her crib and Ziva sat down at the bench and began to nurse her. She was still lost in thought, staring forward as Ashina quietly fed, and Tony knew better than to disturb her in this state.

The house didn’t appear to be disturbed, which meant that if the helicopter that had flown over had been full of people looking for them, then it was unlikely they’d be back, but they couldn’t take the chance. Her thoughts kept repeating that phrase over and over again, and despite this being the home they’d made for themselves, a place where they’d lived comfortably for quite some time now, it would be foolish to get attached to the detriment of their safety. 

The day seemed to go by too quickly for all they needed to do, especially considering the fact that they needed to stop what they were doing much more frequently because of the children. Tony had busied himself with cleaning all of their clothing and hanging it to dry at first, and when most if it had dried, Ziva helped him fold it tightly and stuff it into the huge backpack he’d really hoped he would never need to carry again.

They both worked on filling up every water bottle they had that was still useable, finding that almost all of them were in fair shape despite the length of time they’d been out here. They would need as many of them as they could possibly get, because even though they could follow the stream for a little while, they’d certainly have to leave it behind eventually. Keeping the bottles intact would be best.

Ziva reached into her backpack and located the huge wad of cash she’d kept stashed there. She hadn’t needed it in quite some time, but she had known better than to get rid of it, knowing that it might come in handy at some point.

Tony looked at her holding the money. “You think we’ll need that?”

“Once we get out of this jungle we will,” she said. “We will not be able to stay in this part of the world for long. The good thing is that they won’t be expecting to look for people with two young children, but that presents another problem. If we want to take commercial airlines, then we need to have documentation for these two, and neither of us have the means to make that happen.”

“You mean we’re not going to just steal an aircraft and take to the skies?” he joked, and Ziva laughed lightly at him.

“It crossed my mind,” she said, her eyes gleaming, and it was his turn to laugh. He wouldn’t be surprised if, on top of everything else, Ziva knew how to fly a plane.

“So what do we do then?” he asked, wondering what her plan was, now that she had to adjust it to accommodate two young ones.

Ziva stopped what she was doing and looked at him, folding her hands in her lap. “We start by leaving the jungle. It will not be an easy or a fast trip, and we’ll be back to putting up the tent every night. If we can find heavy coverage like the cave, that would be better, as we’re less likely to be visible to heat sensors and other imagery equipment.” She paused, taking a sip of her water. “Then we will need to find a place to stay. A motel, perhaps. Depending on where we end up – and we can never really ask anyone where we are if we do not wish to arouse suspicion – it will most likely fall on me to communicate, though I do not speak Portuguese.”

“Neither do I,” he said, rather unnecessarily.

“Once there, we lay low for a few days, and I do mean a _few_ days. We will need to forge documentation for the girls, which will not be easy, especially considering I do not have my usual tools. We may need to pay someone to do these things for us, which opens us up to unnecessary risk, obviously. We will figure that part out. But we cannot stay in one place for long, which will make it much more difficult–”

“Why don’t we just contact the team?”

“That will lead Widow right to us.”

“But I mean, if they’re already here, what difference does it make? Let’s get a head start out of this jungle, run to some small town, make a discreet phone call to the emergency phone – I _know_ you still know the number, because I do, too – and let NCIS help us get the hell out of here.”

Ziva sighed, but she recognized that his idea might be worth considering. If they didn’t have the kids, they could simply fly somewhere else, as she still had both of their fake passports in her bag. But with the kids in tow, they’d have to stay still for an undetermined amount of time, which would increase their risk. “You may be right, Tony, but I still feel like contacting the agency at all is too big a risk to take.”

“But with the girls, do we really have a choice? I mean what are you going to do? Pick up a computer _and_ a printer and download some program to help you forge birth certificates and passports? Because I know that if you had that stuff on your computer at home that you didn’t just find it on the internet somewhere, and that’s not something that’s readily accessible. There’s no way you’ll be able to get that stuff done here without something flagging. Everything people do online is tracked.”

She pursed her lips together but didn’t say anything, taking in everything he had to say. He was right, she knew that. “And furthermore, finding someone to do that stuff for us? How do you find someone you trust enough to do that and who won’t immediately go screaming to whoever will listen that he just made a couple of fake IDs for some Americans and their kids? Are we gonna get those done then kill the guy? Because there’s no way to do that without leaving a trace, either.”

Ziva sighed in annoyance, but again, she had to admit it: “You’re right,” she said, reaching to touch his hand. “Calling NCIS is risky, but every other option we have is just as risky as that. They may be our best bet to get out of here, and perhaps they can put us up in a safe house, or even use us to draw Widow out. But even if we call them, they’re not coming for us that second, Tony. They’re going to take a few days to track us down and get to us. And in that time we may need to skip town again.”

“So we skip town again, Ziva, and we call again. They’ll track every phone call we make to them and they’ll piece together where we’re going. Gibbs and McGee are the best there is, and they’ll find us if they have to tear down heaven and earth if they know that we want them to.” Again he was right, and this time she didn’t voice it, nodding instead.

“Well let’s just focus on getting out of here, Tony. Count the days we’ve marked for the girls so we can keep track as we go. I’m not letting us lose track even if we have to run for our lives.”

“I know one thing,” he said, glancing over at their sleeping children as he spoke. Ziva raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue. “We need to buy a stroller whenever we get back to civilization.”

Ziva chuckled at that, but she agreed. They’d have to switch off carrying the children, as Ashina could be carried hands-free in the sling but Tali would need to be carried by hand. They’d have to stop often enough to let her run around, and it may even be beneficial to keep moving forward – albeit slowly – and allowing her to walk some of the way. At least that way, they’d still be moving.

“Take a long look around, Tony,” she said finally, her eyes scanning the room. “Because you will probably never see this place again after today.”

It was weird for him to feel wistful about anything really, but he found himself getting a bit somber at the realization. They’d built a life out here from the ground up. Both of their kids had been born here. They’d fallen in love here and made a vow to love each other for a lifetime here. It was hard to imagine letting go of all that. Everywhere he looked, he had a good memory to match it.

Unfortunately though, they didn’t have a choice in the matter. There was no way to be absolutely certain that Widow had located them, but the helicopter that had flown over this morning had been far too close for it to have been a random flyover.

And if it was Widow, then how in the hell had they found this place? “Do you think it was them? Why wouldn’t they have come back yet?”

She shrugged, letting out a small sigh as she answered. “If it was them, it was probably a small advance team of about three or four men who had come to scout the place. They will go back to a base somewhere and sketch out what they saw. They’ll strategize. Then when their entire team shows up, they can make quick work of us.”

“It _feels_ like they were in here, doesn’t it?” He had always tried to trust his gut, but this time he couldn’t really tell if it was really telling him something or if he was just nervous. Ever since he’d been awakened by the sound of the helicopter flying overhead, his stomach had felt as though it was completely tied up in knots. It was hard to trust his gut instinct when his gut felt as though a hamster was inside of it running on a spinning wheel.

“There was no physical sign of them anywhere, but yes, it does feel as though there was – is – a presence here that wasn’t before. I cannot explain it, I just…”

“Feel it,” he finished, and she nodded.

“Is there anything else we need to pack, or that we should try to pack? I mean, aside from the sleeping bag,” he said, looking over at the rumpled item in question. They’d be using it to sleep tonight, and then in the morning they would roll it up tightly and bring with them, securing it to the top of one of their backpacks instead of inside, since space was now an issue with all of the new belongings they’d amassed.

“I think we have everything ready to go. We will leave at first light – sooner than that, if we are able. Ashina is still waking up ridiculously early. I think after I’ve gotten her fed then we need to get going. Tali will likely still be asleep at that point so we should be able to move fairly swiftly.”

“Do you remember which direction heads back to the town we came from?” He hadn’t been the one to keep the compass, so he had absolutely no idea which way led to civilization, but he also didn’t know if they’d be heading back the way they came.

“Yes, but we are not going that way,” she replied, answering his unasked question. When he didn’t say anything else, clearly waiting for her to speak, she added, “We will travel upstream, which is essentially in the opposite direction we came. We will have to be very careful not to make it obvious which way we’ve traveled, so you’re going to have to watch your step. Once we get far enough away, it won’t matter as much, but in the immediate several kilometers from our house we cannot disturb so much as a leaf on the ground.”

“Could they bring dogs?” Ziva looked up at the question, and Tony realized that she hadn’t considered that a possibility.

“They could, but they won’t bring them when they come back looking to kill us. When they see that we’ve taken off – and surely they must assume that we will – they will go back. They may then find some dogs and try to pick up our scent. We have almost always gone downstream to hunt, which means that our scent will be stronger over there. We will have to hope that it is enough to send them looking in that direction.” She stood up then, walking toward the bed and sitting down on the edge of it, toeing her shoes off and putting her feet up, sitting with her legs crossed and massaging her toes.

Tony watched her for a moment, then asked, “Why not just hope for rain?”

“Contrary to popular belief, rain doesn’t really wash away the scent of humans,” she answered, switching her hands to her other foot and massaging that as well before wiggling her toes and sliding them under the cover. “Come to bed, Tony, we will need to be up early to get a head start, and I do not want either of us to be tired tomorrow.”

“Should we have gotten a start today?”

“Probably,” she responded, looking at the bag that was now full to the brim and ready. “But we didn’t have a bag ready to go and we cannot travel at night. We must have spent half the day hiding out in the cave.” She sighed, then continued. “We really should have been prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.” Her expression clouded over and she was lost in thought for several minutes. “We got complacent,” she finally said, and Tony got up, crossing the room to sit beside her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her.

“We didn’t come into this expecting to be in constant motion. From the moment we got here and you said we’d build a house, I knew it would be a more permanent situation. You thought we’d stay here as long as it took for Widow to give up and for Gibbs to come looking for us, and that made sense for us.” He reached for an errant strand of her hair, pushing it behind her ear, then reached for her chin and tilted it up, helping her to gaze into his eyes. “We couldn’t have lived out of a bag forever anyway. Especially after Tali was born. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“We could have left this afternoon though, instead of tomorrow,” she pointed out, and Tony had to admit that she had a point.

“But you said that they’d go back for their reinforcements. We have a little breathing room. We’ll leave as soon as you get Ashina fed and we’ll be long gone before Widow gets here.”

“It’s just too close for comfort,” she said, heaving a sigh, and Tony took her in his arms, pulling her to his chest and rubbing her back. If he was being honest with himself, he was worried, too, because they really _didn’t_ have a lot of time to get a head start on Widow’s team. They’d probably spend time in the air looking for them for a few days before they actually left the area and brought dogs or other search equipment. They might even leave a few men behind just to follow their trail, if they thought they had one.

Still, it was the only hope they had, and unless they wanted to stay and fight, which was the least appealing option, they’d have to run and hope that they could get to a place where they could alert Gibbs and McGee to the fact that they were alive and needed assistance.

Tony began to laugh slightly then as something crossed his mind and Ziva drew back, looking at him quizzically. “What?” she asked, suspicious at his amusement.

“I just had a random thought,” he began, pausing to laugh at his own thoughts again. “We’re gonna call Gibbs for assistance, and what if we just told him that we needed diapers but nothing else?”

Ziva shook her head, groaning, “Oh my god,” but she started to smile despite everything. Gibbs would have more than a few questions when they finally saw him again, and the thought of asking him only for diapers when they called the emergency line was ridiculous to the point of absurdity.

“Let’s get some rest, Tony,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him before lying down in the bed, drawing the sleeping bag over her shoulder when he followed, lying down beside her. “We’re going to need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 27 on Sunday!


	27. The Battle, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment they'd dreaded arrives - Widow has found them.

“She just does _not_ want to sleep in her basket tonight,” Ziva sighed, as she picked Ashina up again for what seemed to be the tenth time in as many minutes. No matter how often she checked her diaper and offered her breast, the baby simply would not settle, and Ziva was exhausted herself. It was the middle of the night, and they had to get up and leave in a few hours. Ziva groaned inwardly. _So much for a good night’s sleep,_ she thought to herself.

“Just bring her to bed with us,” Tony said with a yawn from the other side of the room, unfortunately awakened by Ziva’s struggle with Ashina, but he’d remained tucked under the sleeping bag. He was just as exhausted as she was, but at least he had the luxury of not having to get up out of bed every single time.

“I guess,” Ziva sighed, crossing to the bed and handing the baby over to Tony, who gathered her close and snuggled her into his warmth. She instantly settled, reveling in the warm cocoon provided by both Tony’s body heat and the blanket. Ziva slid in beside them, wrapping her arm snugly around the baby and yawning, hoping that Ashina would finally take the hint and go to sleep.

The next thing Ziva was aware of was a bright light summoning her to wakefulness. She felt as though she had barely slept but a few minutes, but it seemed as though it was morning already, which was _not_ when she wanted to be up and about. Yawning, she opened her eyes, stretching and stopping short when she realized what was happening.

The house was bathed in the light of what could only be described as a spotlight, and there was an unmistakable sound of a helicopter hovering overhead. “Oh fuck,” she swore, forgetting in that moment that her two children were within earshot.

It was happening. Widow had been here yesterday; they had come back already, and they were here for what would surely be a showdown. “Tony,” she said, nudging him, and he sat up much the same way as he had last night when they’d heard the helicopter overhead.

He realized what was happening in much the same way that Ziva had, and he felt his stomach drop to the floor. “Oh no,” he groaned, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He had never felt this sort of dread before, but he quickly sprang to action, scooting around Ashina, who was still miraculously asleep, and over to the wall where the weapons were kept.

Tali was still asleep, as well, but there was no way she wouldn’t wake up if the type of battle they were expecting took place. Ziva slid out of bed, carefully gathering Ashina in her arms, and putting her down gently in her basket, saying a silent prayer that she would stay asleep, and saying another that Ashina, Tali, Tony, and herself would all somehow survive this encounter tonight.

Tali woke up at that exact moment and Ziva used every last bit of restraint she has not to curse at her for her timing, but she reached to their food storage and handed her a small dish of raw peas, hoping that the small amount of food would keep her occupied for at least a little while.

Dear lord, they were going to have to fight for their lives in front of their children.

They’d planned for this moment hoping it would never arrive, but nothing had prepared either of them for the adrenaline rush that would come from being in the moment. They rearranged the house so that both Tali’s crib and Ashina’s basket were in the farthest corner of the house from the door and behind the bed for added protection, and Tony and Ziva grabbed their weapons and took up defensive positions. They’d practiced rapid fire exercises with the bow and the crossbow, but they’d still have to be extremely careful to defend against gunshots.

The helicopter was so close, but the sound of its engine was barely loud enough to drown out the sound of her own heartbeat as she heard voices outside, shouting from up above. If they’d been speaking anything other than Arabic, she might have been able to hold out hope that it wasn’t Widow and maybe it was someone else – poachers, perhaps – but the words they spoke in a language she’d known nearly her entire life left little doubt.

Widow was here.

“Tony,” she said softly, taking a deep, trembling sigh, “I’m terrified.”

“I know,” he replied, not having to add that he was, too. Just a couple more hours and they’d have gotten away, and while they might not have had much of a head start, they’d still not have been here, literally lying in wait for the fight of their lives.

“The girls,” Ziva added, unable to say anything else.

This, too, Tony understood. “I know.”

“I would do anything to protect them, Tony. If I must choose between their life or mine–”

“I know,” he said a third time, and she leaned toward him and kissed him, tears streaming down her cheeks at the sudden realization that it could be the last time. She looked back, noting that Ashina was still asleep and that Tali had eaten a handful of peas and had slumped back down, snoring heavily, as she hadn’t been truly ready to wake up yet due to the late hour.

“I–” she started, but he cut her off.

“Don’t,” he warned, looking at her intently and brushing a strand of hair off her face. “I already know. Don’t go thinking this is the last time. We will leave this place. _Alive.”_

Ziva barely had time to nod when she heard a thud on the ground outside the house. If they were coming from the helicopter, then they must have been rappelling down, meaning that there might only be one of them coming at a time. She tiptoed to the door of the house, slowly easing it open just a crack, getting the man in her sights and firing, killing him almost instantly. She quickly grabbed another arrow and nocked it on the bowstring, readying herself for the next one, noting that Tony was right behind her and ready for the next one to land.

The second he did, Tony’s crossbow bolt was waiting for him, and the second man fell over, blood oozing from his wounds as the life slipped from him. Tony stepped out of the house in an attempt to locate a weapon on the corpse but there was no time, as two more men were already making their way down the rope ladder, intent on making this fight less one-sided, and he fled to the side of the house.

Ziva fired an arrow at the first one to land, missing him barely as he’d inadvertently stepped out of the path of the arrow. Cursing her bad luck, she reached for another arrow out of her quiver and nocked it, ready to fire on the man again. Tony fired on the second man, nicking him in the shoulder, angering him but not stopping him in his tracks.

He quickly loaded another bolt into the crossbow and took aim again, firing at the man he’d nicked. This time, his aim was more true, and the man fell, but two more men had landed and another two were making their way down.

 _Fuck,_ he thought to himself. There were so many of them. He worked furiously to load the crossbow again, trying to keep himself from panicking by reminding himself that he and Ziva had planned for this. They’d known that Widow would not send only two men, they’d send a full squad of men. This was why they’d practiced rapidly loading their weapons and quick aiming. Ziva had known. He briefly wondered if he could fire at the rope and somehow break it, preventing the men from being able to get down to them, but the target was too small for him to reliably have a chance of hitting it, and it would likely not break with one crossbow bolt anyway.

Taking a defensive position behind a pile of logs he was suddenly grateful he’d made, he took aim at another one of the men, noting that Ziva had planted herself firmly in the doorway of the house, appointing herself as protector of the children. If he had the chance, he would prefer to take a position inside as well, but now that he was out here he would only be exposing himself if he chose to move again now. The light wasn’t shining on him, which gave him a slight advantage, at least until the men were able to figure out where his shots were coming from.

He watched as Ziva fired on one of the men, and he took another shot, realizing that he was about to run out of bolts. This was another possibility they’d known was likely, but it didn’t make him feel better having known that he would run out of shots so quickly. He would soon have to rely on hand-to-hand combat. He was suddenly extremely grateful that he’d had the foresight to carry a knife on him. He made a mental note to thank Gibbs for rule nine when he saw him again.

Just as Ziva’s arrow struck one of the men in the shoulder, causing him to stagger but not fall, Ashina woke up again and began to wail. She hadn’t yet been able to sleep the night through so it only made sense that she would wake up, but Tony had foolishly hoped that she’d miraculously sleep through this.

All of the men who’d come down from the helicopter stopped short, realizing that their targets had had a baby. Two of them grinned sickly, and both Tony and Ziva knew that the men were thinking of killing their daughters. What better way to hurt a person than to hurt their child? Ziva’s eyes narrowed and she shot with renewed vigor, pulling arrow after arrow and firing on the men until she was out of ammunition, arrows sticking out from various points in the men’s bodies. Sadly, the arrows weren’t strong enough to kill them unless very specifically aimed, and without the ability to act as a sniper, they only stuck just enough to slow the men down, though at least one of them would surely fall eventually.

Undeterred, Ziva reached into her boot and pulled out her knife. Ashina was truly wailing at this point, no doubt starving and needing her mother’s attention, and Ziva’s breasts began to leak with the milk that should have been feeding her baby. Her chest was both tight and wet, and the men bore down upon her, unconcerned about her biological need to feed her child. Tony slowly made his way back toward the house, stopping to quickly pick up one of the crossbow bolts that had missed, loading it up and firing at the only man who wasn’t in a direct line to Ziva, should he happen to miss.

He didn’t miss, and the man fell, leaving five more advancing toward their house.

Moving as quickly as he could while making himself as small a target as possible, Tony made his way back to the house, engaging with one of the men up close. Ziva, too, was fighting up close with the men, locked in combat with three of them, managing to stab one of them in the arm before swiftly pulling her knife back out and waving it toward the next man.

Ashina continued to cry, her sobs giving way to frustrated hiccups, and Ziva’s heart hurt at every last noise she made. No baby should have to cry for that long without some level of comfort from a parent, but there was no way she could break away with so many men upon her, and it wasn’t possible that Tony could hold them all off long enough for her to feed the baby. Even the sling was completely useless now, as there was no safe way she could fight with Ashina strapped to her.

She would have to wait, and Ziva prayed to a god she hadn’t spoken to in a long time that her daughter would forgive her for this transgression.

Soon another voice was added to the commotion as Tali began to whimper, soon standing up in her crib and calling out, babbling at her parents as she watched the chaos unfold. Ziva was distracted only momentarily, as she remembered that Tony had built the crib with a very high frame after teasing Ziva about being a ninja.  Ziva was immensely grateful that Tali would not be able to climb out of it at this current moment.

Ziva continued to fight, not allowing herself to get too wrapped up in worrying about her children, which was perhaps the most impossible task of her life. How could she _not_ worry about them when ruthless killers were mere feet away from them and armed to the teeth? If she and Tony did not survive, there was no chance that Widow would take their children back alive. The mere thought made her stomach churn, and she fought with extra gusto to prevent it.

Soon, however, Tali was crying more insistently, her voice mixing with the high-pitched wails of Ashina’s. “It’s okay, baby,” Ziva called from across the room, still engaged in close combat with two of Aman’s men. She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, despite her breath being ragged with exertion and her adrenaline pumping. “It’s okay,” she soothed again, begging for forgiveness again, this time for the lie, for it was most certainly _not_ okay.

She hardly had time to finish her statement before she was struck hard by the fist of one of the men, and she stumbled backwards, momentarily dazed, but she recovered quickly. She played at acting like she was still dazed, working with that perceived weakness, and when the men were on her, she kneed one of them in the groin, taking him down, and punched the other in the face. Fumbling for her knife, she barely managed to reach it before two more men burst in.

If they were trying to lull them into a false sense of security by slowly staggering how many men they brought in at a time, they were surely being successful. Tony had been holding his own in combat, but every time he seemed to gain an advantage, another man burst through the door.

If he hadn’t been so busy in combat himself, he might be entranced watching Ziva fight. She seemed to anticipate each blow as it came, blocking and parrying as the men kept coming at her. She was doing little more than pushing them back as they came, but at least they weren’t able to gain enough ground on her to injure her physically.

She knocked a gun out of one of their hands and Tony barely caught it out of the corner of his eye as it landed on the ground and slid underneath the bed, where it would be essentially inaccessible to any of them as they fought. He was well occupied with the two men he’d been fighting, but he tried to glance around the room and see if there were any other weapons he could get his hands on.

Right now, he really wished that they’d just taken the chance and bought a couple of handguns when they’d gotten here. Then again, they’d expended their arrows pretty quickly with only a few men down, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been the greatest of plans, as bullets would have run out almost as quickly.

Taking a deep breath, he planted his feet as firmly as he could with the weight of multiple assailants on him. Grabbing one of them by the neck, he bent the man forward and shoved his head down toward the ground, lifting his feet up just enough to cause the man to lose his balance. Tony released him, letting him fall onto his head. The sound of the man’s head made a terrible cracking thud against the hard stone floor, and Tony left him for the time being, figuring he was likely going to be struggling with his head injury for a while.

That left him with two others who were trying to take him down. He took a breath and tried to remember some of the moves that Ziva had taught him, finding one that might be successful enough to allow him to reach one of the knives stashed in the front pocket of the backpack that had been faithfully waiting for a hike that would no longer be happening.

He planted his right foot firmly on the ground and with a sweep of his left leg, he hooked his foot behind the calf of the man standing to his left, swiftly yanking his leg upward and knocking the man to the ground. Using the moment of surprise that both of his assailants felt, he spun around, his right arm held up to his shoulder height and closed his fist, connecting it with the other man’s face.

That man stumbled backward and Tony took the opportunity to shove him to the ground, stepping quickly to the backpack and pulling out the knife he knew was there, leaning forward and stabbing the man he’d punched, slicing him just above the ribs.

By this time, the man he’d knocked to the ground was shuffling to his feet and so Tony yanked the knife out rapidly, pulling the man’s head back by the hair and slicing his throat swiftly before allowing him to drop in a heap on the ground. The first man, the one who had newly found his footing, surged toward Tony again, but he nicked his arm with the knife and the man thought twice about trying to engage in close combat with him.

Sensing his advantage, Tony stepped toward the man, attempting to lead him to the corner of the room, but the man was savvy to what he was attempting and he sidestepped him, ducking underneath the swing of Tony’s arm to reach behind him and pull him to the ground. Undeterred, Tony quickly scrambled off the man, turning and pinning him to the ground.

The man knew that he had lost the tiny advantage he’d attempted to gain, and he fought with all his strength to push Tony off of him. Tony was planning to stab the man’s throat but the man fought him, and for what seemed like several tense minutes they played a game of strength – Tony attempting to finally surge forward enough to slit the man’s throat, and the man attempting to prevent that. The man would seem to gain some ground, pushing Tony’s arms away from him for a time, but Tony always pressed back until he had managed to nick the man’s throat. At that point, the man finally caught enough adrenaline to push Tony completely off of him causing Tony to lose his grip on the knife, which made a loud sound as it clanked onto the hard stone floor.

On the other side of the room, Ziva managed to get her knife into another one of the men, hardly taking the time to watch him fall before withdrawing her knife and brandishing it about again. Sensing that Tony was in great danger, she reached into the holster at her waist, pulled out another knife, and launched it at one of Tony’s assailants, pleased when it met its mark and the man fell over, giving Tony the opportunity to gather both her knife and his own.

Too quickly, one of the men was heading toward him, but Tony planted his feet firmly and kept both hands ready to slash with the knives. If he had been the protagonist in one of his action movies, he might have twirled the knives around in a gratuitous display of prowess, but in this situation he merely held the knives at the ready, finding that their mere presence was much more intimidating than any showboating could be.

Ziva was still fighting, her grunts and groans the only indication that she was expending any energy against her attackers at all. Ashina’s crying was a constant addition to the soundtrack, her pitiful wails almost drowning out the sound of the helicopter hovering above, but not quite. Another man burst through the door his eyes resting on Ziva and her milk-stained shirt as she fought in close combat, ignoring – for the moment – the sound of children crying and Tony’s own exhausted panting as he continued to fight for his life.

The new man wasted no time in joining the fight, opting to add his fists into the mix against Ziva’s skilled parries, and she drew in a deep breath as she steeled herself against the onslaught of yet another heavily trained fighter. A part of her relished in the adrenaline rush that came from a good fight, but a much larger part of her wanted nothing more than to be done with this hellish task, finally disposing of this group of terrorists and getting out of this jungle so they could get back to DC where the four of them would be safe.

Rafi Aman was not here, however, and she knew that as long as he still lived, this fight would not be over. It would merely be postponed, as long as they could fight off these attackers and get out of here alive.

Survival had been such a huge part of their existence for so long, ever since they’d come out here, but its meaning had shifted now. Tony still held two knifes firmly in his hands, using them as skillfully as he knew how to as he fought for survival, and Ziva too fought with everything she had in her own personal brand of staying alive.

She managed to dispatch another of the men with some level of efficiency, but the others continued to fight, hardly bothering to acknowledge their fallen, as though he meant nothing. Perhaps, to these men, he _had_ meant nothing. They fought around their fallen as though they were merely obstacles on the ground and not the bodies of comrades they’d once fought alongside. It was wholly creepy to behold, now that Ziva took a second to think about it, but she hardly had time to get philosophical at the moment, not with plenty of attackers still bearing down on her and her husband.

A grunting sound came from behind her and another thud as something fell, and she spun around in a kicking move mainly used for her own sake – she needed to know if it had been Tony that had fallen. Seeing that it hadn’t been and taking strength from his continued prowess in battle, she lunged forward, slicing another man’s throat and watching him fall. There were fewer men now and it appeared as though no more were planning to come in, but they couldn’t let their guard down, for the most recent addition to the fight had waited quite a while to come down, and there could very well be more of them waiting to surprise them and take away whatever advantage they felt they had.

They could not afford to let up now.

Suddenly, one of the men pulled out a gun, cocking it and raising it toward her, causing her to step backward, stumbling over the body of one of the dead assailants. Ziva made no move to continue attacking, watching as Tony also stopped, though none of the other men seemed to have guns on them, at least not where he could see them.

The man who held the gun stepped forward and another followed, grabbing Ziva roughly by the arm and pulling her toward him, causing her to grunt in surprise, but she made no other move. A sudden move would almost certainly result in her death, and she and Tony hadn’t fought this long and hard for her to be careless and be shot _now._

One of the men stepped up behind her and pulled her arms back, clinking her elbows behind her and causing her to wince in pain at the unexpected overextension of the joints. He kicked the back of her legs, causing them to buckle, and he pushed her to the ground, pinning her there as the man with the gun followed, his aim never leaving her temple as he, too, pinned her down, opting to keep the weight of two men on her in order to keep her subdued. Sensing that Ziva was no longer in the fight, the remaining three men turned back to Tony, who wanted nothing more than to go to her and pick her up off the ground.

They didn’t let him.

The short breather he’d been granted by watching the two men subdue Ziva and pin her to the ground had gained him little by way of rest, and he was truly exhausted, but he dared not give up now, for if he could take care of these three men, he might be able to get to Ziva and at least pull one of the men off of her, leaving her a way to escape her current predicament. As it was, they had her pinned face down, her cheek pressed against the hard stone floor watching their feet as they battled, her breath hitching at each sharp wail that Ashina let out.

If it was bothering him, then it must be absolutely _killing_ her, and there was nothing either of them could do for the baby right now. Ziva tried not to concentrate on the sound of her daughter crying, nor on the tightness of her chest as her body longed to fulfill its maternal instinct, but instead on the cold metal of the 9mm gun pressed against her temple, the knowledge that death was the slightest movement of a finger away.

She took a ragged breath, taking stock of what she knew based on her surroundings. Tony was still fighting with three men, all of whom appeared to be quite skilled in combat, but Tony was able to keep them at bay quite successfully. Two other men held her down, one who held her down by straddling her back, his gun pressed against her temple, and the other who sat on her legs, keeping her from being able to use them to gain any sort of leverage. She had never felt so helpless, but Ziva merely continued to breathe, concentrating solely on that act and knowing that despite the precariousness of their situation they could still survive this, and that she needed to keep these men from thinking they needed to pull the trigger by acting as compliant as possible.

Easier said than done, but it was amazing what one could do under extreme duress.

From her vantage point she could not really watch Tony fight with the other men, but she saw their shoes, the operatives of Widow wearing combat boots and Tony wearing his sneakers, and she could watch their steps as though it was a dance. From above the sound of Ashina’s crying, Tali’s intermittent whimpers, and the four sets of feet scuffing along the ground as Tony and the three men fought each other, Ziva could hear the two men who had her pinned speaking to each other in Arabic and pretended not to listen. These men must not be the best and brightest Widow had to offer, for they didn’t seem to be aware that Ziva spoke Arabic, and they were inadvertently giving her information with every word they uttered.

“We cannot kill her yet,” one of the men said, the one that was seated on her legs, obviously warning him against shooting her.

“I am not going to kill her now, I am merely keeping her subdued.” Ashina’s cries continued to reverberate throughout the house, and although Tali appeared to be asleep again, she let out the occasional whimper to signal that she might not be quite as soundly asleep as they hoped. “I am aware that Mr. Aman would like to finish the job himself.”

 _So_ that _was why these men, all armed with guns, had not chosen to simply shoot them and move along,_ Ziva realized, but she kept that realization to herself, attempting to keep her expression as neutral as possible. Although they were speaking Arabic, it was a dialect she was less familiar with, so she continued to pretend that she didn’t understand their words, playing up her terror as much as she could. The more these men felt they had an advantage over her, the better.

She met Tony’s eye from across the room, attempting to communicate with him without speaking, but he didn’t seem to read her, for perhaps the only time in their partnership. He was still trying – unsuccessfully – to fight off the three men that were keeping him from her, and she was pinned beneath the weight of what she now knew was two rather heavyset men, the gun still trained on her forehead. The fact that these men had just revealed that they were not allowed to kill her was entirely irrelevant at the moment, since the safety was off and she knew that any sudden movement could result in the trigger being pulled and her life ending.

She silently prayed for grace, though she knew that it was unlikely to come.

The scuffle taking place between Tony and the other three attackers was constant, and her heart was pounding so hard that she felt it through the cold stone floor. She had known fear, yes, but never quite to this extent, and when she heard Tony grunt suddenly and a loud thud, she closed her eyes briefly against the possibility that her husband may have fallen.

When she opened them again, she saw that his feet, clad in the ratty sneakers he so often wore, were still among those planted firmly on the ground, and she couldn’t help the tear that welled up in her eye, pooling at the corner and dripping onto the floor. Tony was still alive, and she drew strength from that knowledge as one of the men who had pinned her down stood up and joined the fight, apparently considering her lack of retaliation a sign that all of the fight had left her.

With the weight of only one man holding her down, she now knew that she could gain an advantage, and she took a deep breath, choking back a sob that wasn’t nearly as fake as she wished it was. Her emotions had gotten the best of her in this fight, but Ziva wondered if they might be the one thing that might save her, for Widow might underestimate her strength if they were to see her crying and believe that she’d grown too soft to be able to keep going.

That would be a mistake on their part.

Just then, Tony caught her eye from where he stood, still engaged with three men, his knife scratching but not doing any real damage to his targets. He saw the determination in his wife’s expression and it gave him an additional surge of power he hadn’t known he possessed, and he expertly ducked one of the men’s advances in the nick of time, sidestepping expertly and finally shoving his knife exactly where he wanted it, killing yet another one of the men. Now there were two left for him to fight off, not counting the man who had Ziva held at gunpoint on the ground.

 _We might actually win this,_ he thought to himself, and the mere suggestion of it gave him a second wind he hadn’t known he’d possessed. If they could take care of these three men, they could still take off and make contact with NCIS, or they could find a way to coerce the helicopter pilot to get them out of here, assuming he was the only person left once they took care of these men down here.

He continued to bide his time with the two men, calculating his every move to ensure that he made no mistakes, despite having been fighting for longer than he’d ever thought he could. Ziva had trained him well and they had spent _hours_ sparring on occasion, but it had never been with this level of intensity. There was no need for him to rush and make a stupid mistake, not when they were this close to victory despite having been severely outnumbered.

Just then, Ziva made her move, rolling her attacker off of her, doing her best to reach up and grab the hand that held the gun that had been aimed at her temple. She and her attacker struggled on the ground, wrestling and fighting for the upper hand, but the man held firm on the weapon. Ziva landed one strong punch to the man’s face and he faltered, but he didn’t relax his grip on the gun, and soon he was rolling her off of him and attempting to regain a position where he could keep her pinned down.

Ashina’s crying was a constant siren at this point, a continuous and unwavering wail that echoed throughout the entire cabin, and while Tali was making some sounds, she somehow was still not fully awake the way that her sister was. Ziva’s breasts were unbearably painful now with the milk that should have been going to her daughter, her heart felt as though it was being squeezed within her chest at the thought that she still could not go and comfort her, not until she was able to take care of these attackers.

Ziva reached her hand up toward the gun, smacking the man’s forearm but not quite reaching it as he rolled just out of her grasp, but she followed, not letting up for even a second, punching him again in the jaw as she scanned the room for a knife she could use to end this man’s pitiful existence. Her momentary survey landed her on her back again, but the man was not quick enough to pin her down before she kicked her legs up, knocking him in the stomach and causing him to double back until he hit the wall behind him in what seemed like slow-motion, his arms raised almost comically and his finger reflexively closing on the trigger as one of the men who had been engaged with Tony now pushed her to the ground, effectively pinning her and keeping her from finishing what she’d started with her previous attacker.  

The baby let out a sudden and piercing wail as the shot rang out deafeningly through the cabin and everything stopped, leaving the cabin in absolute and complete silence.

 _“Ashina,”_ Ziva gasped, her heart dropping all the way to the floor at the utter lack of sound coming from her basket. She couldn’t turn and look, couldn’t see, but… the gunshot. She had to be…

_No._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fairly certain that a number of you would like to kill me right about now. I'd apologize, but I'm not really all that sorry about it.
> 
> You'll be able to find out what happens on Thursday, when Chapter 28 goes up.


	28. The Battle, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle between Tony and Ziva and the terrorists continues, but Tony and Ziva are growing tired. Will they make it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to address some of the anger from the last chapter that I posted it on Mother's Day. 
> 
> This fic has been written since I started posting it in January, with edits to chapters and a few chapters having some rewrites, but Chapter 27 was always going to have the same ending it did on Sunday. I didn't have any such plan to post that particular scene on Mother's Day and I certainly didn't look ahead on my posting schedule to make sure that Chapter 27 didn't go up on Mother's Day. I know we are the NCIS fandom and all, but really and truly, it was an unfortunate coincidence. 
> 
> Content Warning: Some parts of this chapter may be difficult to read, but have faith. Like I said on Twitter, I'm not Gary Glasberg.

The silence was deafening for all of a millisecond before Ashina started wailing again, the sound of the gunshot apparently having startled her into a momentary silence.

Ziva heaved a sigh of relief at the sound, her heart pounding in her chest as she fought off the tears that threatened to fall. What else was she to think as a gunshot rang out and her child stopped making noise but that her baby had been killed by errant gunfire?

A new burst of adrenaline shot through her at that thought, and she summoned every last bit of strength she still had to push the man she’d been fighting off of her, standing up quickly and planting her feet firmly. She couldn’t see Tony but she could faintly hear him grunting over the sound of the hovering chopper, and knowing that he was still in the fight gave her hope. They would continue to fight, as long as it took. The man swung at her and she ducked, using her lowered stature to crash into him, knocking him down and onto the ground. She threw her own punch which connected with his jaw, sending his head into the ground, blood spattering from his mouth. Ziva used all of her weight to keep him subdued, reaching for another knife she’d kept on the shelf nearby – she’d tackled him to this exact spot for a reason.

The man was slow to recover, and Ziva used that to her advantage, reaching for the knife without taking too much of her weight off of him, lest he find his strength again. As soon as she wrapped her hands around the handle of the knife the man seemed to become more alert, but Ziva wasted no time sticking it into his neck and slicing, wincing only slightly at the sudden rush of blood that spattered all over the place as his life left him. Once she was sure that he was dead, she took her knife back and turned her attention to one of the men attacking Tony.

Tony, for his part, was holding his own rather well, despite the fact that he still had three men occupied, all of whom he’d managed to disarm rather handily. Ziva glanced around for any of the guns or knives these men might have used but did not see them, and not wanting to waste any time, she joined the fight, coming up behind one of the men and sticking her knife into his shoulder, causing him to turn so quickly that she lost her grip on the weapon.

Cursing inwardly and taking a breath, she immediately stepped into attack mode with the man, hoping that the wound she’d inflicted would soon render him immobile, or at least slow him down some. Over the man’s shoulder, she glanced at Tony, catching his eye as he heaved a deep breath, catching his look of reassurance despite their currently terrible odds, odds that were at least slowly improving the more they continued to fight.

Tony managed to take one of the men to the ground and pressed the weight of his right leg onto him in attempts to keep him from being able to move, but the man was only slightly winded by the action. That man grabbed him by the leg and twisted, causing him to lose his balance and topple to the ground, landing hard on his bottom as the other man tackled him.

“Tony!” Ziva cried out in anguish, but she was still heavily occupied in grappling with the other man, who would not give her any means to retrieve her knife, which seemed to only slightly slow him down. She kneed at him, doing her best not to watch what was happening to Tony on the ground, but he dodged and began swinging back at her, catching her ribcage as he swung wildly toward her.

Ashina was still crying loudly, her fitful wails sounding as though she’d been betrayed, and Ziva’s heart ached to go to her, to pull her to her chest and allow her the comfort and food that she desperately needed. Her milk had been leaking now for what felt like an eternity, though she was now sweating so profusely from the exertion of the battle that the tightness in her chest was the only indication that she was even lactating at all.

Not only was Ashina wailing, but now Tali seemed to be truly whimpering, as well, and Ziva took a deep breath and prayed again that she would stay in her crib and not try to get out and play.

The man she was fighting took this momentary distraction as an advantage, taunting her. “Another one? Just how many children are you hiding back here?” Ziva didn’t respond, opting instead to focus on re-gaining any advantage she could over the man. He continued to taunt her verbally, hoping to anger her enough so that she would lose her focus and attack him without finesse. “Little whore, aren’t you? Can’t keep ‘em closed? Maybe I shouldn’t kill you then.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed but he willed himself to tune out the vile things the man was saying to his wife. He and Ziva both knew that she was no whore, and that their children were borne of the love between them, but the words he spoke still awakened something primal inside of him. _No one talks to my wife that way_ , he thought inwardly, but he could see that Ziva remained focused as if she hadn’t even heard him.

“Might find some other use for you,” the man continued almost inaudibly, and Ziva again pretended that she hadn’t even heard him. Thinking along those lines would undoubtedly distract him from what he’d been sent to do, and Ziva would use that to gain an advantage, if only she was patient, and so she let him continue to verbally assault her, shielding herself mentally from the onslaught.

Tony was still struggling with the two other men as he continued to fight lying on his back, currently unable to get up. He kicked wildly, tripping one of the men and causing him to topple over, but the man was quick to get up and lurch toward him while his buddy continued to wrestle with Tony on the ground. Neither of the men had located their weapons, and Tony had kept the one man occupied by keeping his arms held tight, using all of the strength he had left to keep the man from breaking free and finding something with which to kill him. Or Ziva and the girls.

Ziva finally gained enough leverage with the man she was fighting to reach around his back and retrieve her knife, pulling it out without preamble and cutting his throat, watching as he fell over face down, bleeding out on what had once been their clean stone floor. She barely paid him a passing glance as she strode over to where Tony was still fighting two men, pulling one of them – the one who had been knocked to the ground – to her and slicing his throat as well, watching as he sputtered and then fell over, but not before knocking her knife out of her hands.

Feeling a new burst of adrenaline, Tony surged and pushed the man off of him, finally rising to his feet, but suddenly the sound of the helicopter became almost deafening, and the remaining man stood up, spitting on the ground as he spoke in broken English.

“You did not think this was _all_ of us, did you?”

 _Another helicopter._ Ziva’s eyes widened, but she said nothing as she stepped forward, punching the man in the face. He stumbled backward, where Tony caught him and spun him around, striking him repeatedly while Ziva retrieved her fallen knife. Just as she turned back to slice the man’s throat and kill him, too, their door burst open and a gunshot rang out, luckily killing the man she happened to have in front of her and only nicking her in the process.

“Tony,” she gasped, looking to where he stood bleeding, his hand grasping his side. The door had shut again, and it was likely that whoever was out there was staging a full-fledged assault. They would need to be at their very best.

“I’m okay, Ziva,” he returned, his fingers bloody but his breath even. “Grazed me,” was all he said, taking a position behind the table and looking for something – a cloth, anything – to wrap his side with so he could return to the fight.

Ziva, understanding immediately what his intention was, nodded in his direction and stood by the doorway, knife in hand. “I’ll cover you,” she said softly, mouthing a small kiss in his direction. Despite everything, he smiled, reassured, and worked at bandaging himself up well enough so that he could return to the fight. Ashina was still crying but only with soft, hiccupping sobs, and Tali was standing wide-eyed, watching both of her parents fighting for their lives. Ziva’s heart went out to the both of them for having to endure this, but the endgame was simple – outlast this attack and live their lives.

They had no idea how many men would be on this helicopter, but Ziva felt as though she was beginning to run out of steam. They’d made it through this first wave, it seemed, but now there was another group of a dozen or so more they’d have to contend with? Tony was injured and she was feeling as though at least some of her ribs were bruised, if not fully broken. Adrenaline was keeping her in the fight, but for how much longer? How much more of this could they endure?

The door flew open again and with it, a singular arm with a gun outstretched, leading its way in, and Ziva took advantage of the situation and pulled the arm around the doorway, bending it unnaturally and taking the gun from the man behind it, momentarily shuddering at the way it felt in her hands.

God, it had been so _long,_ and she hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed handling a gun. That was something that she could likely spend some time exploring later, however, as she still held the man she’d disarmed by the wrist, and so she yanked him into the house and aimed the gun at him, firing into his chest and killing him instantly.

She couldn’t tell just by the weight of the gun how many rounds it held and she was in no position to take out the magazine and examine it, but they’d have to be careful with their shots and fire only when necessary.

Flipping the safety on, she tossed the gun to Tony. “Maintain that position,” she instructed, wanting to give him the safer vantage point since he was hurt. He might maintain some of his bravado, but she felt more confident with his chances of survival if he kept from close combat and instead covered her with the weapon where he could. “Conserve rounds,” she added, and Tony nodded just as the door flew open and two more men came in, barely giving Ziva the chance to grab her knife from where she’d stashed it when she’d taken the gun.

Both of them came for her immediately, ignoring Tony’s presence entirely, which was a mistake on their part. Ziva fought both of them, acting, for her part, as though she was the only combatant in the room and that Tony was not a factor. If she could convince them that they held the upper hand, then Tony could surprise them when he shot one of them. After that, the element of surprise would be useless.

Two more men ran into the cabin then, weapons outstretched, and without hesitation, Tony shot one of them, then turned the weapon and shot the other, nicking his shoulder. The first man stumbled and fell, slumping against the wall of the cabin, blood painting front of his shirt as he bled out, but the second man only reacted angrily, charging toward Tony, who ducked behind the table quickly to avoid retribution, losing his grip on the pistol in the process. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice giving every indication of just how exhausted this battle had left him.

Ziva, too, deflated somewhat, but did her best not to show it, as she was still heavily engaged in a battle with two men who were slow to relent. She didn’t have time to consider why they were still fighting her when it was clear that all of them had plenty of weapons to simply finish what they’d come for, but as long as they were alive, she and Tony would continue to fight.

Just then, the door flew open and a figure she recognized emerged, followed by several others. Rafi Aman, the leader of Widow, had arrived, and Ziva felt a chill run down her spine. _They_ had _been keeping her alive for his sake,_ she remembered, and she had just a millisecond to catch Tony’s eye and see that he had finally come to the same realization.

“Well fought,” he said, and everyone in the room stopped to look at him, paying him their full attention. All of Aman’s men lowered their weapons, but both Tony and Ziva kept the ones they had at the ready, not willing to let their guard down for a second.

“Truly,” Aman continued, surveying the room, a brief flash of surprise lighting his eyes at the sight of the children, “you have proven to me exactly how deadly you can be.”

Again, Ziva said nothing, and Tony kept his eyes trained on her face, expressionless as she panted for breath, still reeling from the exertion. A drop of sweat – or was it blood? – rolled down her face as her chest heaved and she struggled to maintain a steady rate of breath. Aman stepped forward, brandishing a knife in her direction as he spoke. “Which is why I don’t buy your ridiculous ‘self-defense’ story. You wanted him dead, admit it.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she continued to refuse to speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Of _course_ he would come out here to kill her himself. This entire thing had been purely personal.

Taking a deep breath, she watched him closely as he stepped toward her, leaning back just the slightest bit when the tip of the knife was at her neck but otherwise not yielding. She hadn’t yielded to him before, and she wasn’t about to start now. She could hear Tony drawing in a breath behind her, but he also remained silent save for his heavy breathing, not willing to risk anything now that Rafi Aman had a knife pointed directly at his wife’s throat. If he’d been afraid when that other man had tackled her to the ground, he was absolutely petrified now, because he knew what Rafi Aman was all about, and his men were schoolyard bullies compared to what he was capable of.

“Tie them up,” he instructed the legion of men at his command, and they sprang to action, guns trained on both Tony and Ziva as they closed in, disarming both and wasting no time in shoving them to the ground and securing them both to the posts of their bed. Ziva heaved a great sigh at this, but she continued to stare at Aman defiantly, her breathing calm and furious now.

When the men were finished with their task, Aman looked down first at Tony and then Ziva, a sinister smirk transforming into an evil laugh. He appeared as though he was about to say something when Ashina’s low, choking sobs gave way to a powerful wail again, and only then did Ziva display any emotion but cold fury as she listened to the sound of her daughter’s screams.

Aman scowled. “I cannot listen to that incessant noise any longer,” he said, his hand tightening on the handle of the knife he held. “You,” he said, pointing to one of his operatives, “bring her the child.”

“Do not touch her,” Ziva spat angrily. The last thing she wanted was for any of these men to lay a finger on her daughter, even if they claimed their intent was noble. Aman could have every intent of having the man bring Ashina to her, or he could easily instruct the man to kill her, and she didn’t trust them even an ounce.

“Oh? Your choice. If you would prefer that she do not have your comfort, we can leave her there, or you can allow one of my men to bring her to you.” Ziva was still skeptical, unwilling to relent. “I promise that I am not quite so heartless,” he said.

Ziva held her tongue. She knew _exactly_ how heartless Rafi Aman was, but he must have something else up his sleeve if he was willing to have one of his men bring the baby to her. Still, she was hardly in a position to argue, not with so many weapons trained on herself and Tony, so she nodded, but only barely.

“I thought as much.”

The man picked Ashina up, clearly unsure how to properly handle an infant, and Ashina continued to wail as he walked quickly to where Ziva sat on the ground, practically ready to dump the baby in her lap. Aman held his hand up to stop him and he paused a moment before her. Ziva could see that Ashina appeared unharmed, though her face was an angry shade of red and her hair was matted from sweat and tears.

Rafi Aman leaned forward, taking his knife in his hand, and cut open Ziva’s shirt, exposing her to everyone in the room. She flinched only the slightest bit, but it had had its desired effect, as all of the men now ogled her openly. Ziva tried not to let any emotion show on her face, but she was infuriated by this act. She was not a piece of meat for Rafi Aman’s men to slobber over.

“Now you may place the child on her lap, and then get out of the way,” Aman instructed, and his lackey did exactly that, leaving Ashina awkwardly perched on Ziva’s legs. Because she was secured to the bed only by her arms, her legs had been stretched out in front of her and she was able to bend at the knees to shift Ashina carefully up, and soon she realized that her mother was there and began to suckle hungrily. Ziva sighed with relief at that, both from the release of pressure from her aching breasts and the fact that she could finally comfort her child.

“See? Not so heartless,” Aman said, reaching forward to tilt her chin up so that Ziva was looking at him instead of Ashina. “I would not want her to miss out on her last meal.”

“You son of a bitch,” Tony said, finally speaking up, and Ziva gave him a warning look, one that seemed to tell him not to make it worse.

“Ahh, he speaks,” Aman said, turning his attention to Tony for the time being. “I think I will take care of the children first, that way you may both suffer, and then I shall take care of your partner over there,” he said, turning back to Ziva. “You must suffer. The way _I_ have suffered.”

“Was Bodnar your lover?”

Ziva closed her eyes at Tony’s words, willing him to shut up. Despite Tony always choosing to talk himself out of situations, this was one instance where it would be smarter for him to simply be quiet.

A flash of rage registered in Aman’s eyes at the insinuation, and he leaned forward, pressing the tip of his knife into Ziva’s cheek. She hissed slightly at the stinging pain that the knife caused, watching helplessly as a drop of blood fell from her cheek and onto the rosy cheek of her daughter, who had been furiously sucking since the moment she’d been given the opportunity to eat. Ziva longed to reach out and cradle her daughter’s forehead, but her arms were very firmly tied behind her. The best she could do was shuffle her legs slightly, providing a slight bounce that Ashina had always found comforting.

Tony hissed at the sight of the knife nicking Ziva’s skin but didn’t say another word, instead narrowing his eyes in anger at the situation they were now in. He would be no good to Ziva if he spent all of his time running his mouth and pissing Aman off, so now it would be best if he could attempt to formulate a plan.

He wasn’t sure what type of plan he could possibly come up with his hands tied quite tightly behind him and roughly a dozen armed men waiting to kill him and his family, but he’d do his best to come up with at least something. _God?_ He thought to himself, looking up toward the sky, but unfortunately, even God didn’t seem to be too keen on answering at the moment, though he decided that praying might not be the worst idea he’d ever had, for at least if he and his family died out here he’d have gotten right with God, in the end.

 _No,_ he thought to himself firmly. He was not going to think that they were going to die out here.

Aman was smirking as he looked at the red splotch of blood that continued to paint Ashina’s cheek as she had her meal. He rather enjoyed the look of Ziva David’s blood spilling, and how fitting it was that it was not just _her_ blood, but it would also be the blood of people she clearly loved. Ah, the justice of it all.

“What is the child’s name?”

Ziva’s words were ice as she spoke them, crisp and frigid. “Why would I tell you that?”

Aman lurched forward, waving the knife between his fingers as he reminded her who had the upper hand. “Because I asked you to. Or rather… I _told_ you to,” he spat, his breath coming out in hot puffs against the open wound on her cheek. It took every last bit of effort she possessed not to head butt him in order to push him out of her personal space, but she knew that to do that would be to accelerate her own demise.

At this point, she wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered. It was obvious that they were alone here and that they were hopelessly outnumbered. What difference would a few minutes make anyway?

“His name is Evan,” Tony said, pulling the attention toward him instead, and Ziva lifted her head to look at him, meeting his eyes. To an outsider, he gave nothing away but his love for his wife, but Ziva could tell that he understood. There was something too intimate about giving Aman the pleasure of knowing their daughter’s name. Even if they were all going to die out here, Rafi Aman would never know the true identity of the two children whose lives he’d taken, and it may very well be the final act of DiNozzo defiance.

“Evan,” Aman repeated, his accent thick as it stumbled over the name, and he took the child from Ziva, who winced as Ashina’s small gums popped loudly from her nipple, now exposed to the humid cabin air. He turned slowly about the cabin, showing the baby to the other men in the room, and they all looked on with sinister smiles as Aman performed what appeared to be a strange ritual, almost as if he was planning some type of sacrifice.

It was probably not far off from the truth. “Bring the other child,” he instructed one of his men, and that man walked over to the crib where Tali had sat watching the events unfolding almost silently. The man stepped toward her, however, and she began to cry, clearly not interested in having some strange man pick her up.

“Ima,” she wailed, her eyes widening with terror, and Aman glared at Ziva, his eyebrows raised in a silent order to tell Tali that it would be okay.

“It’s okay, my little lamb,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “Ima is right here, baby. The man won’t hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking at that. Of course he would, and Tali had every reason to fear any one of these men. A couple of the men on the other side of the cabin laughed at that, understanding her English and recognizing the lie for what it was, but with one of her children being handled by a terrorist who would hesitate not even a second before slitting her throat, Ziva didn’t exactly have the option of telling the truth.

“Hand her to her father,” Aman instructed when the man was finally able to pick up a rather reluctant Tali, and when the man sat her down on Tony’s lap, she turned and buried her face in his neck, wrapping her arms around him, her shyness uncharacteristic around her parents, but she _was_ surrounded by strangers.

Tony felt the same struggle as Ziva had, wanting to reach around and wrap his arms around his daughter, comforting her and letting her know that everything was okay, but all he could do was whisper softly and reassuringly into her ear. Aman then did something that surprised both Tony and Ziva by settling Ashina back down on Ziva’s lap, and Ziva noted that she had finally fallen asleep again, unsurprising given her fit earlier.

“I think I would rather you see this up close…” Aman began, leaning toward Ziva and pausing for effect, “and personal.” She didn’t have to ask what he meant, and she willed herself not to panic at the thought of having to watch him murder her child in her own lap and be unable to stop it, but she couldn’t stop the tears that welled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks and mingling with the now dried blood that had accumulated there.

“God, no,” Tony groaned, and he closed his eyes as he did his best to comfort Tali, not wanting to watch what was surely going to be the most gruesome and heartbreaking moment of his life. He found that he also could not look at Ziva, for even the look on her face now was one of pure anguish, the likes of which he’d never seen, not even that night when he’d watched as she walked into Director Vance’s house to find her father’s dead body.

“Make sure he watches,” Aman said to his men, and three of them stepped toward him, one of them roughly turning his head and holding it so that he was facing Ziva and Ashina, and the others training their weapons at him, instructing him in broken English to keep his eyes open if he wanted his death to be quick and painless.

He caught Ziva’s eye, caught the look of utter defeat as she gazed at him, her mouth forming the words, “I’m sorry,” as tears rolled down her cheeks. She never should have dragged him into this, never should have allowed him to be so present in her life, and now she was responsible for him losing everything he cared about, including two children that he wouldn’t even have had if it hadn’t been for her and her foolish desire for vengeance against Ilan Bodnar.

“Not your fault,” he mouthed back, trying to get her to see that he’d have followed, he’d have fallen anyway. Tears of his own were now welling in his eyes, and his chest felt as though it would implode with just how much air felt was being sucked from his lungs. _So this is what it feels like to die,_ he thought to himself, for surely death itself could not be as painful as this very moment in his life.

“You will meet them in the afterlife,” Aman said, and he raised his knife slightly, taking his free hand and lifting Ashina’s head just enough to expose her neck. Ziva winced and tried to close her eyes, but another man grabbed her head and forced her to watch, holding her eyes open by force, causing the tears welling to fall, clouding her vision but only slightly. _This is it,_ she thought to herself, unable to stop herself from hyperventilating at the thought. _I should have known I could not be a mother._ She braced herself for the inevitable, willing her heart to stop beating in its chest so she would no longer have to endure this pain.

Suddenly the door burst open and the man holding Ziva’s eyes open fell to the ground as the sound of a gunshot rang out, and all of the men – Aman included – turned rapidly to see the commotion. Tali’s head shot up as she turned to look at what was going on, and both Tony and Ziva tore their eyes away from Ashina as Aman, startled, dropped the knife to the floor with an audible clanking noise. Ashina startled and woke up, wailing loudly, and soon flashlights were shining in the door, blinding them.

More shots rang out as some of the other men fell down dead, the rest of them scrambling for some semblance of cover in the small cabin. Tali clung carefully to her father, her shoulders shaking in fear with each gunshot. The light finally fell away from the corner of the room where Tony, Ziva, Tali, and Ashina sat, and finally they could see that Gibbs, McGee, and two other agents – a black woman and a tall, red-haired man – had arrived in full riot gear began to take control of the scene. Behind them, about half a dozen more agents ran into the cabin, guns at the ready.  

They quickly managed to subdue the remaining men with handcuffs and chains, one of whom was Rafi Aman. Three others stood by, their hands cuffed behind their backs, their faces bloodied. “Ayaz Sokar,” Gibbs said as he looked over one of them, the man who had held Ziva at gunpoint earlier in the night. The man said nothing, but Tony could tell that the man recognized his name by the way his eyes flashed defiantly at Gibbs.

The female agent stepped forward, reaching into her backpack for a scarf and wrapping it around Ziva’s exposed front. Ziva met her gaze, silently thanking her for the coverage, and the woman nodded her understanding in a silent show of compassion and solidarity. McGee and the other agents gathered up the four men they’d managed to subdue, leading them outside where some type of transport was obviously waiting to take them away.

Pulling out a knife, the female agent reached around and untied Ziva, carefully cutting through the thick rope that had secured her to the bedpost, and then turned to assist Tony. She was quiet and stoic, but she showed a small smile at Tali when the toddler gathered the courage to meet her gaze.

Tali buried her head in Tony’s neck again, obviously too shy to make friends just yet, and Ziva’s lips curled upward just slightly as Tony, his hands now freed, wrapped his arms around his daughter and found a way to his feet. Ziva took that opportunity to stand as well, heaving a sigh of relief as she held Ashina tightly to her before stepping forward and rushing into Tony’s arms, hugging him so tightly she was almost worried that they would crush the children.

“Abba ow,” Tali said then, and Ziva kissed the top of her forehead, letting go only slightly as she cried on Tony’s shoulder, all of the emotion and adrenaline of the early morning fight finally leaving her in loud, uninhibited sobs.

Tony’s own tears were far from silent as he held her close, his own choked sobs those of relief and gratitude that Gibbs, McGee, and these other agents had shown up. “We made it,” he whispered against Ziva’s skin, and she shuddered as she began to sob even more loudly, because for a moment, it truly appeared as though they wouldn’t.

It was a long time before they pulled apart, their hands clinging and their chests heaving as they held on to each other for dear life. Never had Ziva felt so raw in all her life, and despite knowing that they now had an audience, she continued to grasp Tony as if her life depended on it. When they finally did pull apart, it was only slightly, and they kept their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s waist as they turned to face the people who had come to save them. Ziva turned to wipe her tears on Tony’s shirt, taking a deep breath, and Tony looked over at the group, giving a sheepish grin as he looked directly at Agent Gibbs.

“Hey boss,” he said, as if he were greeting him on a standard Monday morning and not after an all-out brawl for the very lives of himself, Ziva, and the two children that the folks back at NCIS hadn’t known existed.

Ziva began to laugh through her tears then, laughter of relief and happiness and _goodness, it’s over_ finally washing over her, and soon Tony was chucking beside her as well as he reached up and tenderly wiped away the tear that had rolled down her cheek.

McGee watched with this exchange with surprise, not used to seeing this softer, loving side of Tony. The Tony he had known would never have looked at Ziva with such care. Sure, he’d seen the way Tony looked at Ziva with affection, but he absolutely adored her, and it was written all over his face.

What was more surprising, however, was the way that _Ziva_ looked at _Tony._ The adoration she felt for him was just as plain as his, and McGee had never imagined that if they’d found Tony and Ziva alive that the two of them would be standing together with two children and almost disgustingly sappy love looks on their faces. “Kept busy, I see?” McGee said, and Ziva blushed. _Blushed._

“Meet Talia Antonia DiNozzo,” she said, motioning to Tali. “Wave, pumpkin,” Ziva instructed, but Tali burrowed her head further into her father’s chest, clearly not ready to be social just yet. Considering her only interactions in the first part of her life had been with her parents, it was understandable that she wasn’t quite ready to warm up to outsiders.

“And that’s Ashina Rae,” Tony said, using his free hand to affectionately caress Ashina’s soft curls as she slept soundly against her mother’s chest.

“And I’m exhausted,” Ziva concluded, to the laughter of everyone in the room. She stepped away from Tony finally and used her free hand to right the bed, sitting down on it. Tony followed, allowing Tali to sit up on her own, though she stayed pretty close to Tony, still not yet willing to face the newcomers.

Most of the agents had stepped back outside, presumably to take care of the bodies that had fallen out there, but two of them – the woman and the man who had followed immediately behind McGee – stayed behind. Tony realized that they must be the two replacement agents on Gibbs’ team.

“Special Agent Nathan Pruitt,” Gibbs said, motioning to the man, who waved rather awkwardly, “and Special Agent Jordan Thompson.”

“I’m so glad we made it to you on time,” she said, trying to fill the silence. Obviously, she didn’t even know them, but Ziva could tell by the way she’d immediately been concerned with preserving her privacy and getting her covered up that she was a compassionate and empathetic person.

“So are we,” Tony joked with a cock of his head, and Ziva couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he said it.

“They were going to kill the children in front of us,” Ziva said softly, unable to contain her outpouring of relief any longer. If Gibbs and company had arrived even thirty seconds later, they might have been burying both of their children. It had been entirely too close for comfort, and she was still incredibly shaken up by the ordeal.

“That’s awful,” Thompson said rather unnecessarily, shuddering at the mere thought of it. Just to look at her, both Tony and Ziva could tell that she was not a seasoned agent, but she’d had their backs and that was something that couldn’t always be taught.

“So now what?” Tony asked after a brief silence hung awkwardly in the air. It had been so long since they’d seen other people and it felt almost as though there was an invisible wall between his family and his coworkers.

“We need to get these bodies out of here,” was all Gibbs said, and suddenly McGee, Thompson, and Pruitt all sprang to action, reaching outside of the cabin for backpacks which carried supplies necessary for the identification and processing of bodies at a crime scene. They could no longer hear the sound of the helicopters still hovering overhead but they could hear the other agents talking to each other as they worked.

They were prepared for a bloodbath, but probably not one of quite this magnitude. “How in the hell did you two last this long?” Pruitt finally spoke up as he looked around the room, almost as if he’d just now noticed all of the bodies for the first time.

“We are not entirely sure ourselves,” Ziva replied, looking around the room. She didn’t want to count the number of men that had fallen here, but they’d probably taken out nearly two dozen men on their own. “But Rafi Aman wanted to kill me himself, so most of these men were not armed as heavily as we might have normally anticipated.”

“And Ziva made sure we kept training. Almost every day, rain or shine, we were out there sparring, practicing.”

“That was clearly not the only thing you were up to,” McGee commented as he reached into his bag for some gloves, and Ziva ducked her head, blushing for the second time that morning, but she looked up almost immediately, meeting his gaze.

“I would be nowhere without him. I owe him so much,” she said softly, turning to gaze into his eyes as she spoke. “To think that I almost left without telling him.”

“I never would have stopped looking for you,” he replied, gazing deep into her eyes and leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. She reached her free hand up and caressed his cheek, leaning into him and kissing him softly, forgetting for the moment that they had an audience who had never known this level of intimacy between them. Despite the evidence of their relationship being clear as day thanks to the two children Tony and Ziva had, McGee still found it jarring that they’d grown to a point where they could casually lean into each other and kiss as though it was something they did every day. _It probably was,_ he realized.

Gibbs cleared his throat, and they broke apart reluctantly, though they remained in each other’s space for a few additional moments in time. “What?” Tony asked, trying not to sound exasperated. “I hope you’re not going to lecture me about one of your rules or something, because I hate to break it to you, we stopped being coworkers when we left NCIS that day.”

No one responded, so Tony continued, finally turning his head away from Ziva to face the rest of the group. “Now that we’re alive, and Widow is gone, we can finally make it official. What do you say, Ziva, want a piece of paper telling the world you’re mine?”

“I don’t need a piece of paper for that, Tony, I’ll gladly tell anyone who will listen.”

“Ugh, stop,” Gibbs said, indicating that he’d finally had enough. Tony and Ziva had always bickered with each other like an old married couple, but they’d never been like _this._ Sure, he was glad to see that they were happy together, but they didn’t need to be so consistently sappy all the time. “You three, help get these bodies processed so we can get them out of here. You two,” he said, pointing to Tony and Ziva, “go get cleaned up or something. One of us brought a first aid kit you can use to clean up these wounds.”

Tony very nearly responded, “On it, boss,” the way he might have a few years ago, but he kept himself from it. Still, Gibbs’ command left little room for debate, and so he stood up, pulling Tali with him, and holding out his hand to help Ziva to her feet. Since Ashina was asleep again, she put the baby down and looked over at McGee, then at Gibbs, and back to McGee. “You will let me know if she wakes, yes?”

McGee only nodded, gulping slightly at the thought. He wasn’t exactly skilled in the art of dealing with babies. Sensing his discomfort, Ziva continued. “Just come get me, McGee. That will be fine.”

He nodded again, and Ziva turned to her bag to gather clothing for herself, Tony, and Tali, and they headed out to the swimming hole they’d often used as a bathtub. She started by getting Tali cleaned up and changed, and instructed her to stay nearby where they could keep an eye on her. She ran around outside, crouching down every so often to look at a bug or a twig, but never straying too far from her mother’s sight. They definitely did not want her playing with any of the corpses scattered about the land. Still, Tony stayed out of the stream for now, watching over Tali as Ziva got herself cleaned up, though he offered his assistance when she asked for help cleaning the cut on her cheek. “That’s gonna scar,” he murmured, but Ziva had suspected as much when it happened and had resigned herself to it. A scar was a small price to pay for her life.

She was attempting to wash her back when she cried out in pain, having forgotten that her ribs were either bruised or broken, and Tony helped her clean and then get dressed again, doing his best to bandage her without causing her undue pain. It would be difficult for her to truly bandage her ribs since she was still nursing, but this would have to do, and soon it was Tony’s turn to get cleaned up and his wounds addressed.

Once that was taken care of and they felt more presentable, they walked with Tali back into the house, where many of the bodies were now bagged and apparently ready to go. Gibbs had what looked to be a satellite radio in his hand, and they could hear the sounds of a helicopter in the distance, probably coming back to transport the dead away from this spot and to some morgue somewhere. There wasn’t anything to do but wait, and so they sat down outside, watching as Tali ran around and reveling in the blessedness of being gifted with yet another day.

Gibbs sat down beside them, his hands folded between his knees as he looked at the pair. He didn’t speak right away, but both Tony and Ziva sensed that he had something he wanted to say and so they waited, Ziva keeping her eye trained on Tali as she sat expectantly waiting for her former boss to speak.

“They’re beautiful,” was all he said, and Ziva grinned, a new tear welling up in her eyes at his words. For Gibbs had never needed many words in order to speak volumes, and this was no exception.

“They’re the loves of my life,” Tony responded, giving Ziva a squeeze as they stared out at Tali as she ran and jumped along the bank of the stream.

Today was a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for Chapter 29 on Monday.


	29. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, McGee, Thompson, and Pruitt work on cleaning everything up and tying up the last of the loose ends so they can go home.

“How did they find us?” Tony asked, once they’d finally gotten the last of the bodies cleaned up and flown away. It was late afternoon and both of the girls were back to sleep, Ashina snoring lightly, and Ziva was watching over them with a wistful smile, a deep sigh heaving her shoulders as Tony watched her.

They had come so close to losing everything, and he shuddered at the thought.

When Gibbs didn’t respond right away, Tony continued. “Come to think of it, how did _you_ find us?” People always said the world was small, but geographically speaking, it was anything but. The fact that they’d been located – in just over two and a half years, it seemed – was surprising, though Tony had to admit his relief at not having to worry about Widow anymore.

“They led us to you,” was all the man said, which was almost infuriating in its complete lack of an answer, and even McGee was smart enough to pick up on it and supplement.

“We don’t really know,” McGee began, glancing over at Ziva. “We couldn’t find you on any surveillance, and we looked over every airport video for a month leading to when we discovered you were gone.” He kept his gaze trained on Ziva, noting with apprehension how she’d been apart from the conversation for the past several minutes now, too wrapped up in watching her daughters sleep. _Her daughters,_ McGee thought to himself, pausing for a brief moment to shake his head in disbelief. That would take some getting used to. “But Widow was stupid enough not to cover _their_ tracks, and as soon as we could tell that they were headed somewhere with a purpose, we were right behind them. We only hoped you’d be able to hold out long enough for us to get here.”

“It was… pretty close,” Tony mused, unwilling to think about what might have happened if the team hadn’t arrived when they had. As it was, his side wasn’t in the greatest shape after having been grazed by a bullet and he was pretty sure at least one of his ribs was broken, but he was lucky. “And we didn’t go to the same airport, Ziva and I. We flew out on the same night, but we didn’t travel anywhere together until we got to Brazil.”

Absently, he rubbed his side, wincing slightly at the pain his light touch caused. The other two agents – the new ones whose names he’d already forgotten – were outside, and Tony could hear them speaking to each other, though he couldn’t make out their words. It had been necessary for the team to take on newbies, of course, but he’d been a bit surprised to see the unfamiliar faces all the same.

“So now what?” Ziva asked, finally turning from her spot in the back of the cabin, her hand brushing across her cheek as she wiped the last remnant of a tear from her eyes. No one dared begrudge her this show of emotion.

“You come home,” was all Gibbs said, as though that was the simplest and most obvious solution.

“We have a life here,” Tony argued, scarcely able to believe his own words. But it was true. In the past few – _really, nearly three?_ – years, they’d carved out their daily existence in this obscure corner of the globe. For the most part, they’d been safe and secure, and they’d wanted for very little.

“Are you hearing this?” McGee joked, unable to help himself. Tony, of all people, was resisting a return to civilization?

“Had I not witnessed it myself, I would not have believed it either,” Ziva said, crossing the room and sitting beside him, snuggling carefully against him and letting him wrap his good arm around her. She sought comfort in him almost instinctively at this point, and McGee again looked at them incredulously, completely unused to this simple display of affection between them. He wondered how long it would take him to get used to seeing Tony and Ziva acting this way.

Tony’s newfound appreciation for nature wasn’t the only thing that was different.

“We have all we need,” was all Tony said in response, ignoring – for now – McGee’s look of shock. He’d get used to it eventually. Gibbs, for his part, acted like there was no difference at all, choosing not to acknowledge the shift in Tony and Ziva’s relationship. He’d been kind enough to compliment their children, of course, but he hadn’t said anything about the two of them. Tony wondered if that would come later, after the task at hand was completed, or if Gibbs would harbor some silent resentment toward their change in status for a while.

“We should go back, Tony,” Ziva said softly, speaking mainly to him. He turned his head, meeting her gaze, and McGee watched as a conversation took place between them. He felt as though he was watching something not meant for him, and he unconsciously backed away slightly, not wanting to intrude.

“Is it weird that I don’t want to?” he asked, his voice quiet, and again McGee couldn’t help feeling like he didn’t belong in this moment, but Gibbs stood motionless, giving McGee no indication of how he should proceed, so he stood still, watching awkwardly.

Ziva smiled slightly, letting a soft sigh out as she snuggled into him. “No,” was all she said at first, taking a deep breath and shifting her weight slightly, as her hip was sore from the massive bruise that had deeply colored her skin. “We have made a life here. It is natural to have a strong tie to this place.”

“It would be nothing without you. And the girls,” he responded, kissing the top of her hair, and she tilted her head up so that she could kiss him fully, their lips meeting briefly before they pulled away again, breathing contentedly.

“You are my home, too, Tony,” she replied with a slight smile, oblivious still to the fact that their former coworkers were standing by. “We can have our home anywhere, so long as we’re together.”

“But here…”

She smirked at him. “This place has been a wonderful first home. But we don’t belong here – not really. Widow is no longer a threat. We always talked about going back if it was safe. Think of all the things you can share with the girls that you couldn’t here.”

“Movie marathons,” he said, his eyes widening, a grin starting to spread on his face.

“Of course that is the first place you go,” she teased, and he needed only to look at her to know that she was joking with him.

“So many possibilities,” he continued, giving her waist a squeeze, wincing as she collided slightly with his sore side. He ached, but he didn’t want to let her go if he could help it. “I wonder which Disney princess will be their favorites? Which songs are we going to have to play on repeat? What dolls are we going to have to buy?”

“We must bring the one you made, too.”

He turned to look at her then, surprised. “Why? When we can buy them both so many other things that they will like a whole lot better than some hand-carved monstrosity?”

Ziva cocked her head and leveled her gaze at him. “Tali loves that doll, if you hadn’t noticed. She will treasure it when she gets older and we can tell her where it came from. There are many things we will have to leave behind, but that is not one of them, Tony.”

“I…” he trailed off, unable to finish his thought right away. Ziva noticed the telltale sign of a tear welling up in his eyes, but rather than reach up and draw attention to it by wiping it away, she leaned forward and nuzzled into his neck, urging him to continue. “I thought maybe you were just saying that so I wouldn’t feel bad,” he finally said.

“Is it the most beautiful doll? No, Tony. But that does not mean that it wasn’t made with love. And that is what makes it special, so much more than one we could simply just buy somewhere.”

“Everything I’ve done here has been done with love,” he responded, and he ran his fingers through her hair as he turned her head to his, leaning forward and kissing her hungrily, ignoring, for now, the pain in his side as he held her.

Gingerly wrapping her arm around him, Ziva moaned into the embrace, flexing her jaw to allow him the access he craved. A tear began to fall as she kissed him, her relief at their _finally_ being safe again overwhelming her, and soon she was clinging to him desperately, her entire body tensed as she held onto him as though he would slip away if she let him go. Gasping, she pulled away for just a moment, her eyes closed as the tear slid all the way down her cheek, and then she dove back in, reveling in the way his thumb came up to caress her face, wiping the tear away as he held her close and poured his own relief into her.

They were _safe._

McGee turned around, not wanting to intrude on this very intimate moment between them, and Gibbs finally stepped away and outside of the cabin, the door shutting behind him slowly. The sound slowly brought Tony and Ziva back to their senses, and they pulled their lips from one another, their foreheads touching as they panted for breath, their chests heaving. They weren’t used to having people around, and it only now occurred to either of them that they might need to keep their hands to themselves while in the company of others.

It was only then that Tony began to feel the pain in his side again, and he hissed at the pain, despite not wanting to release Ziva from his embrace. “I’m okay,” he breathed, and she nodded against him, her forehead rubbing against his.

“I know,” she whispered back, understanding him perfectly. She, too, was sore from their battle, and despite the pain she felt, she wanted nothing more than to be close to him, held in the security and safety of his arms.

“So we’re going to leave then?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer, and again Ziva nodded against him, slowly this time. He sucked in a deep breath, then stepped away slightly, running his hand from Ziva’s waist to her hand, which he took, interlocking their fingers.

Tony glanced around the cabin, the space that was now entirely too small for all of the people it was trying to accommodate, and squeezed Ziva’s hand instinctively. This had been their sanctuary, their space. Despite knowing that they would be expected to head back home – and really, they could not be stowaways in a foreign country for the rest of their lives without any legal complications – Tony still felt wistful at the thought of leaving it all behind. Every part of this house held some memory that he didn’t want to leave behind.

“Let me see your phone,” Tony said finally, motioning to McGee, who turned around at the sound of his name.

He narrowed his eyes at Tony but handed him the phone, saying, “The service out here is garbage,” as if the first thing he’d want to do upon having access to technology would be to make a phone call.

He squeezed Ziva’s hand again as he took it. “That’s not why I want it,” was all he said, and he opened up the camera app and walked over to where his girls lay asleep. “It’s way past time we have some photographs of our children,” he said, and snapped photos of both, from multiple angles. No one else spoke as they watched him, and Ziva’s heart seemed to expand in her chest at the notion that of all the things Tony could want with technology, photos of their children were the first.

Silently, they all watched as Tony stepped throughout the rest of the cabin, snapping photographs of everything else, and when he reached the door, he pulled it open, stepping outside, presumably to take more photos.

Ziva followed behind him, smiling almost shyly at McGee. It was weird, she thought, being around the team again when so much had changed in their lives. McGee smiled back, following behind her and watching as Tony circled the cabin, taking photographs of everything – even the vegetable garden he’d often lamented the existence of.

Finally, Tony put the phone atop the rock face and then scaled it, wincing as his ribs protested, and looked at the series of tallies they’d carved into it. “What’s the date?” he asked finally, wanting to finally know the birthdates of both of his daughters. Ziva, also ready to know this vital piece of information, scaled the wall beside him, standing with Tony and looking down at the marks they’d made faithfully since the day Tali was born, and the separate set of marks they’d made for Ashina.

“January 23,” Tim replied, and both Tony and Ziva looked back at him expectantly. Tim looked back at them, his eyes darting between them, and then turned to look at Gibbs, Pruitt, and Thompson, wondering if he had something on his face.

“What year?” Ziva finally asked, and he laughed slightly at that. Then again, she _had_ just asked the date, so it was probable that they wouldn’t know what year it was if they didn’t know the exact date.

“2016,” he finally answered, and he watched as they began counting.

Curious as to what it was they were looking at, McGee followed behind them and climbed up the rock wall. Gibbs had followed them behind the house, Thompson and Pruitt behind him, though the three of them remained below to watch from a distance, which left them still unable to see what, exactly, the former agents had been counting.

“What are you doing?” It was Thompson who spoke, and both Tony and Ziva stopped to stare down at her. They’d been introduced, but they really didn’t know her at all, and yet she was speaking to them as if she knew them. If she’d been looking for them alongside McGee, however, it was likely that she might believe she did know them, on some level.

“Well,” Tony began, turning to face the group while Ziva continued counting, “we kind of lost track of time out here, as you may have guessed, but we thought it of the utmost importance to know Tali and Ashina’s birthdates. So we decided to just count the days since their birth and then count back to it if we ever left this place.”

Ziva stood now with McGee’s phone, looking at the calendar app and trying to count back. “You counted 88 for Ashina, right?” she asked Tony, pointing her finger at the dates on the calendar and trying, unsuccessfully, to work her way through. She kept getting stuck and losing count, and she wanted to be absolutely _sure_ of the date.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning over the phone with her and watching as she scrolled slowly through, counting back with her. They were huddled closed together and talking very quietly, murmuring through their date-finding process, and none of the others could hear them, save for McGee, who again felt as though he was intruding on a private moment between the pair.

“Let’s count it again, just to be sure,” Tony said, then took the phone and scrolled back to today’s date, and together, the two of them began counting back – making sure not to count this day as the first day, since they had not gotten around to marking it off due to all of the commotion. This was the third time and the date matched, so the count they made was confirmed.

“October 27,” Ziva said, certain that their count was correct.

Tony repeated it, committing the date to his memory. “October 27, 2015. Ashina’s birthday.” He grinned, unable to help himself, really, then a new thought occurred to him. “Hey, that’s not too far off from your birthday, Ziva. How old are you now?”

She had to think on it a moment. “Thirty-three,” she said, realizing that on top of everything else, they’d also had their own birthdays to think of. When she’d come out here with him, she’d been thirty, and she hadn’t really accounted for the passage of her own years. It wasn’t like she had spent a lot of time worrying about her age. Now that she was back under the constraints of normal time-keeping, however, she supposed that she’d have to get used to thirty-three. Among so many other things.

“Let’s count up Tali’s days,” she said once her train of thought had left her. She and Tony both looked down at the hash marks they’d carved for the passing of days since Tali had been born. They’d gone out of their way to mark off every hundred days to make counting much easier, but she still wanted to make sure that they hadn’t gotten off the count at any point.

There were few things she was fine with making mistakes on, but this particular point was _crucial._ Tali’s birthday was of the utmost importance. She began to count the hash marks on the ground, blocking out all other sounds around her as she focused on this task. She felt Tony’s presence beside her, and she knew that he was also counting, and soon McGee was standing by, and it appeared that he had also joined in.

They’d marked off six separate sets of a hundred, and there were twenty-one hash marks after that. “Six twenty-one?” Tony asked out loud, and both Ziva and McGee nodded in confirmation. Tony let out a low whistle, incredulous both at the fact that Tali had been alive for over six-hundred days, but also that so much time really had passed, and that hadn’t even accounted for all the days before she’d been born.

But he could do the math. It was 2013 when they’d left, and it had been May, so they’d been out here for about two and a half years. When he thought about it that way, it didn’t really seem all that long, but the number of days made it seem almost endless.

“Tony,” Ziva said, pulling him from his thoughts, and he snapped to attention. “Shall we?” She held the phone in front of her, motioning with it, and he got her meaning without her needing to speak any further. Soon they were counting backward, but they didn’t get that far before his eyes were beginning to blur together and it was becoming entirely too much to stare at that tiny screen for so long.

“There has to be a better way to do this,” he groaned, and Ziva reluctantly agreed with him. The counting was beyond tedious.

McGee chuckled, then reached for his phone. Ziva handed it back to him without a word, wondering what he was going to do with it. “Technology continues to evolve, despite your primitive lifestyle,” was all he said, and he tapped his phone screen so that a little dinging sound went off, and then he spoke directly to the phone. “What was the date six hundred twenty-one days ago?” he asked.

A mechanical voice answered the question after only a brief pause. “Today is January 23, 2016. Not counting today, six hundred twenty-one days ago was May 12, 2014.”

“We could have done that… before?” Ziva asked, stunned. Granted, phones and technology had been emerging when they’d left, but she had never once asked her phone a question and gotten a cogent answer the way McGee just had.

“Are you sure it’s right?” Tony asked, not bothering to wait for the answer to Ziva’s question.

“You can double check it – after I asked the question, the Google results popped up on the screen. Take your pick,” McGee said, showing them the screen. There were dozens of results, all saying the same thing.

“May 12 is Tali’s birthday,” Ziva finally said, satisfied with the results. “Maybe we should double check Ashina’s.” She did exactly that, satisfying herself with the knowledge that they’d correctly counted back to Ashina’s birthday, and she finally handed the phone back to McGee, who stuffed it in his back pocket. The two younger agents had watched this entire exchange with amusement, and Gibbs said nothing, though he had to admire how easy it was to see Tony, Ziva, and McGee working together again even after all this time.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he _had_ missed them.

Ziva was the first to climb down from the rock wall, and Tony followed her, heading back toward the house, probably under the assumption that the kids would wake up again soon, but she stopped first, turning to shake the hands of the two new agents. Sure, Gibbs had stated their names as they’d come in, but they had never shaken hands or really spoken to teach other yet. “Ziva David,” was all she said, looking both of them in the eye, “though I suspect you know that already.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Thompson said, unsure how to address someone who she was weirdly familiar with despite this being their first meeting. “Agent Jordan Thompson.”

“Nathan Pruitt,” the man said, but he didn’t say anything else. Tony looked at him quizzically, but then realized that the new agent must be wondering just how he and his partner Thompson would fit on the team once he and Ziva came back.

“You helped locate us and take out Widow,” Ziva said, looking at them both. “I know it is part of the job, but it is appreciated all the same.” Neither of them responded, but Thompson at least smiled warmly, nodding shyly. If she was being honest, she had kind of regarded Ziva as some kind of legend. She’d responded so calmly when they first arrived, but she knew what it must have been like for her, a woman exposed the way she was in a cabin full of lecherous men. That had kept her focused on the task and not the person. Now, however, she was feeling a lot more nervous about actually meeting Ziva. Perhaps that was because McGee spoke so highly of her, but now that she was actually meeting her, she felt a little overwhelmed. It was ridiculous, considering that her own credentials were perfectly badass on their own merit, but she felt a little star-struck at the moment.

“So how long will you guys need to pack up?” McGee asked, finally approaching the elephant in the room. They _would_ come back, right? He scratched nervously at his arm, looking down to see that a bug had bitten him at some point, and his expression changed to annoyance. He _hated_ bugs.

“Not long,” Ziva mused, trying to hide her amusement. Where Tony had once been the team member she would consider most likely to want to get back to civilization, that honor had very clearly shifted to McGee.

“Um…” Thompson spoke up, looking around nervously. “There may be a problem with that.”

“Huh?” Tony asked, and everyone else stared at her.

“We are in the middle of Brazil, right? And while the two of you probably have passports – fake ones, obviously – to get back, there’s no way you have any documentation for your kids.”

“I’ll handle that,” Gibbs said simply, and Thompson merely nodded. Abby had once told her that Gibbs was magic, and while she didn’t believe in magic the way that Abby did, she believed that Gibbs had some sort of way about him that allowed him to bypass things that normally could not be bypassed.

Gibbs really hadn’t said much the entire time they’d been out here, and Tony suddenly wondered if there was something amiss. He’d never really been the type to soliloquize, of course, but it was unusual for him to be quite this quiet, especially when things needed doing. At any rate, he was glad that the new probies and the other agents had already taken care of getting the bodies out of the house and neither he nor Ziva would have to worry about it.

Just then, Ashina’s wail pierced the silence of the jungle and Ziva stepped quickly toward the cabin, going inside to pick her up, and Tony followed, wanting a bit of private time with his wife. Or whatever she technically was now that they’d become accountable to civilization again. He wasn’t used to sharing her with other adults anymore, and it was a strange feeling.

Soon the baby was settled against Ziva’s skin, and Ziva was looking down at her, running her fingers through her hair and speaking softly. Tony watched her, his heart overflowing with love, and he sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her carefully to him. Tali was still asleep, but it likely wouldn’t be long before she awoke, either, and they’d have to find ways to pack up the rest of their belongings with the children underfoot. Maybe McGee could babysit for a while.

Tony snorted at the thought, and Ziva looked up at him, startled. “I was just thinking about packing up, then I thought maybe McGoo could babysit, and it just seemed really funny to me.”

“There are few people I trust more than him, though,” was all she said, and Tony couldn’t really disagree there. Who else would they want to watch their children?

“So when we get back,” he began, taking in a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, “move in with me? Or I’ll move in with you – I think your apartment is bigger. And also,” he said, taking her left hand in his, rubbing his fingers over the small wooden band she’d worn faithfully since the day he’d given it to her, “let’s make this officially official, okay?”

“We can live anywhere you like,” was all she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “And let’s handle all of the logistics of everything later, Tony. Let’s just get home, settle for a bit. We can plan a wedding – or at least a small ceremony – later. I am content to be your fiancée for a little while.”

“But–”

She shushed him. “In my heart, I have been your wife for a long time, my love. The paperwork is nothing but a formality. Let us just enjoy each other and worry about those things later.”

He sighed, nodding against her, then turned and kissed her forehead gently, allowing her to settle against him, watching lovingly as their daughter fed. So much had changed since they’d come out here, and now so much more was about to. How would they adjust to life in DC again? He supposed, in the end, it didn’t really matter as long as they were together through it.

Just then, Gibbs walked in, but neither made any effort to move. Ziva, for one, didn’t seem to be concerned with the fact that she was breastfeeding in front of her former boss, and Tony just didn’t have it in him to care about what the boss might think about the way their relationship had changed.

A small voice inside him reminded him – again – that Gibbs wasn’t their boss anymore, anyway, but some habits die hard.

“I’m impressed,” was all he said, looking around the room, and Tony wondered if he was talking about the cabin, the furniture, the family, or everything all together.

“We did what we had to,” Tony responded, and he knew it to be the truth.

“You _had_ to have two children?” he asked, his expression more amused than angry, and Tony at least had the grace to look sheepish. Of course they hadn’t _had_ to do that, but surely even Gibbs could understand the things people do when they’re in love.

“We had to rely on each other,” was all he said at first, but thought a second before continuing. “We always have. I’d be nowhere without her, and if it took us running off to the middle of the god-forsaken rainforest for me to finally admit that, then yes, we had to do it.” _And frankly_ , he thought to himself as he drew in a deep breath, _I don’t need to defend my actions to anyone._

Ziva finally spoke then, and Gibbs looked almost startled, like he’d forgotten she was even there, as she’d been sitting so quietly with the baby. “This–” she motioned to herself and to Tony, and then the children – “would have happened anyway, Gibbs. Obviously not in the same way, but we had been heading here for a while now.”

She seemed softer somehow, and yet, Gibbs mused, she seemed even stronger with DiNozzo by her side. He watched as Tony took Ziva’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and they shared a glance that could only be described as pure adoration. While they’d always looked at each other as though no one else was in the room, it had never been quite this pronounced.

When Gibbs didn’t respond to what either Tony or Ziva had said, she began to speak again, considering the matter resolved. “How soon will we be leaving?” she asked.

“We can call the helicopter pilot back any time we’re ready. You’ve got a cozy little place, but I think it might get a bit crowded with four more adults in here,” he said, looking around.

“We had a flyover the night before last and we suspected that they may have found us. We spent all day preparing to leave again,” Ziva started. Ashina had finished and she gently pulled the baby away from her chest, covering up and holding her as she turned her head and looked around the room, taking in the sight of people that she’d never seen before.

“We’d planned to leave immediately after Ashina’s early morning feeding,” Tony added, nodding toward the packed backpacks that were leaning against the rock face. “We’d packed everything we couldn’t leave behind, which was quite a lot of stuff.”

“We just didn’t get to leave. They came back much sooner than even I had anticipated.”

“So what we’re saying, boss,” Tony said, cringing both at the unfamiliar word and the reminder that Gibbs was not their boss, and hadn’t been for some time, “is that we could be ready to go at any time.”

“You will…” Ziva started, brushing her hand lightly over Ashina’s soft curls and looking at her lovingly, “find a way to get them back with us? They will need birth certificates. I do not know how we should go about obtaining them.”

“We’ll find someone who will help you handle that.” Just then, McGee walked into the house, followed by Thompson and Pruitt.

“Boss,” McGee started, trying not to let himself feel unsettled by seeing Tony and Ziva leaning on each other the way they were, staring down at their baby as she slept. “The helicopter pilot just called. He has dropped off the team with the bodies and wants to know when he should come back for us. I told him I’d call him back in about fifteen minutes.”

Gibbs looked over at Tony and Ziva, as they were the ones who needed to prepare the most for a trip back to the rest of the world. Before they could answer, though, Tali woke up from her afternoon nap, standing up in her crib and asking to be picked up.

Ziva slid off the bed, holding carefully onto Ashina, and put her down gently on the floor, which had been covered by a tarp by one of the agents who had already flown out with the bodies. Ashina kicked into the air, cooing and playing with her feet, and Ziva smiled down at her, reveling in the toothless grin she received in turn. She then turned to Tali’s crib, where Tali had her arms outstretched, whimpering, “Ima, ima, ima,” but hadn’t really begun to cry just yet. Ziva picked her up and set her down, and Tali wandered around the cabin, looking confused as she noticed all of the people in the room.

She ran first to Thompson, who gave a big smile and waved at her, but Tali’s eyes widened and she backed away, then she ran over to the bed where Tony sat, raising her arms and saying, “Up!”

Tony leaned forward and lifted her up, letting her sit down in his lap, and Ziva pulled out some of the vegetables she’d put in their backpack in preparation for their departure to bring to Tali to snack on while she prepared something more substantial. “I am sure you are all hungry. We should have just enough fish to feed everyone before we leave. And after we have eaten, then we can leave this place.”

“Are you sure?” McGee asked, and Ziva glanced at Tony first, who nodded, and she nodded in return.

“We are ready to leave. We are leaving by helicopter? Tony will carry Tali then, and I will make sure that Ashina is safe with me. We will load up our belongings first. Call your man, McGee. Tell him we will be ready to leave in two hours.”

McGee seemed to check with Gibbs first, and when Gibbs gave him a subtle nod, he stepped outside, taking out his phone and making the call. Ziva invited Gibbs, Thompson, and Pruitt to sit down – a tight fit, she noted, since the bench was only made with herself and Tony in mind – while she worked at preparing the fish in the oven they’d built over the small fire pit they had built when they’d first come out here.

They would be putting out that fire for good in just a few hours, and Ziva blinked back a tear at the realization. She’d never been one to be overly sentimental, but it was hard not to feel at least _something_ for the place where so many things had happened. She knew that Tony had felt a similar wistfulness. _We will just have to make new memories then,_ she resolved, and that thought had her feeling much better about the future.

It wasn’t long before she’d finished cooking the fish, and she handed out dinner on homemade plates to the people in attendance, using her clean knife to slice it up to manageable bites for Tali and handing both a bowl full of Tali’s food and a plate to Tony, who sat separate from the group on the bed, since there was no room left at the table.

Once everyone else was happily munching away at the food, there was little chatter, except for small murmurs of appreciation for the taste of the food. Smoked fish wasn’t generally everyone’s cup of tea, but no one seemed to be complaining. Ziva took her own plate to sit on the bed beside Tony, assisting him with feeding Tali while everyone else ate contentedly.

“Do we bring the plates back with us?” Tony asked suddenly, and Ziva shrugged as she chewed her fish.

“Do you want to?”

It was his turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe a souvenir?”

Ziva looked down at Tali and then nodded over to Ashina. “We already have two,” she joked, and he nudged her, rolling his eyes and laughing at her joke.

“Fair enough.” They didn’t really have room to carry all of the plates with them, but maybe one or two could sit somewhere in the house they would eventually buy as a decorative element or something. “I think we should take a few of them,” he added finally, and Ziva shrugged again.

“If you want to, honey, then you wash them and add them to the backpacks. If you can find any place to put them, that is.” She smirked, knowing just how full both of the backpacks were at this point.

“I think McGee has a bag or something,” he replied, and McGee turned his head at the mention of his name.

“You need a bag?”

“What did I tell you?” Tony smirked to Ziva, and it was her turn to laugh. She felt so much lighter now that they didn’t have to worry about Widow anymore, and it was so easy to laugh at the little endearing things that she loved so much about Tony.

With that, Tony slid off the bed, leaving Tali to finish her fish with Ziva’s help, and he took some of the plates from the people who were done eating and took them outside, washing them all off in the stream before bringing them back inside, stuffing them in the bag that McGee had graciously offered to let him use.

It was nearing time for them to go, and Ziva spread the sleeping bag out on the floor to roll it up. Again, she felt her chest tighten with sadness at the fact that they’d be leaving this all behind. If anyone had ever told her that she would be reluctant to leave a hand-built cabin in the rainforest after living there for two and a half years _and_ after having been attacked there, she’d never have believed it, but here she was, and she couldn’t discount what she was feeling.

The sound of the helicopter in the distance was welcome this time, and when it hovered overhead, Thompson and McGee were the first to ascend so that they could unload the bags from the cargo lift. Getting the bags lifted and into the helicopter was quicker than expected, and soon Pruitt was being hoisted up.

“You go first, Tony,” Ziva instructed, tightening a harness around both him and Tali, who was squirming uncomfortably against him. “Shhhhh, little one,” she cooed, trying to soothe Tali’s restlessness, running her hand over her hair and patting her gently. “Hold on to Abba, my sweet.”

“I’ve got you,” he assured her, and Tali still didn’t quite settle, but he gave the thumbs up anyway, and soon he was being raised up and away from the house, holding tightly onto Tali despite the harness that should keep her pretty well strapped in.

He took one long last look at the house as it started to get smaller as he grew further away from it. The top of it really did seem to blend into the landscape, so Widow must have had thermal imaging to locate them. “Wave bye bye,” he instructed Tali, and she raised her hand, distracted momentarily, waving down at Ziva.

“Bye bye,” she echoed, and it wasn’t much longer before they’d reached the helicopter, which was much louder up close. McGee was there to help them onto the helicopter, and after they got into the aircraft they finally took the harness off. Tony immediately got her strapped into a seat in the back of the chopper, and although she wasn’t pleased with this new restriction, she didn’t start crying. Tony stayed with her to keep her distracted, and McGee brought a small pair of noise-canceling headphones to cover her ears, which Tony put on carefully.

Tali shook her head, trying to remove them until Tony put his own pair on, saying, “See?” Even though he knew Tali couldn’t hear him, he knew that his display of being okay with the ear coverings made her feel better about using them. A new thing was always less scary when Ima or Abba was willing to try it too.

On the ground, Ziva was being helped onto the cargo lift by Gibbs, who had waited to be the last one for that very reason. Ziva held Ashina in the sling but let Gibbs strap her in the harness as well, and she looked at the house they’d built in much the same way as Tony had.

 _This is it,_ she thought, and her heart was pounding in her chest. It almost didn’t seem real.

Just a few minutes later and Ziva was being pulled into the helicopter, taking her seat beside Tali and putting a tiny pair of headphones on Ashina, whose ears would be the most sensitive to the sound of the helicopter. Surprisingly, she didn’t wake, but she did squirm a little when Ziva put the headphones on.

It wasn’t long before Gibbs had been pulled into the helicopter, and McGee and Pruitt worked to secure the cargo lift and shut the door of the helicopter. They wouldn’t be flying back to the States tonight, as the helicopter wouldn’t make the trip. Instead, they’d be dropped off at a nearby town where all of them would stay in a hotel until they were able to secure documentation for the girls and then a flight back to DC.

“Did you remember to lock the door?” Tony joked as Gibbs sat down beside him, and everyone who was able to hear had a hearty laugh. Ziva reached for Tony’s hand across Tali’s lap and he grabbed it, interlocking their fingers and squeezing tightly.

They were going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there! Chapter 30 goes up on Friday, and then it's just one more after that. Thank you for your support.


	30. Life Adjusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Ziva, Tali, and Ashina have to adjust to a new way of life, which also means that Tony and Ziva need to consider their return to NCIS and what it means for their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains smut. I couldn't very well have them come home from the jungle and then not have sex in an actual bed at least once!

**Two Weeks Later**

“Gibbs says that Rafi Aman gave a full confession,” Tony said after hanging up the phone, setting it down on the table beside him, still not completely used to the technology again after so long without. He and Ziva had both needed to purchase new phones, as their old phones had simply died from non-use over the past couple years, not to mention the fact that their old phones had apparently become obsolete.

They had arrived home again two nights ago after finally having secured documentation for the children, which had been a lot trickier than any of them could have anticipated. With a bit of finesse, McGee had updated their records to indicate that they had continuously been NCIS agents and that they had been on a deep cover operation. Their status as undercover operatives on foreign soil had made them eligible for documentation under the same clauses that allowed military servicemembers to give birth in foreign duty stations and procure US citizenship for their children. It had been a trying couple of weeks holed up in a hotel room in Brazil, but they’d finally made it back – all of them – and attempted to settle into some semblance of a normal life in Ziva’s apartment.

“I am not surprised,” Ziva mused, looking up from Ashina, whose suckling was starting to slow as she began to drift off to sleep. Tali was sitting quietly, transfixed by the television and the new assortment of Disney movies Tony had bought and added to his collection. Tali hadn’t been born with this technology in her hands, but that didn’t stop her from fully embracing it as soon as she’d been exposed to it. So far, Tali seemed to have less trouble returning to the real world than her parents had, as both of them had burnt meals yesterday, setting the smoke detector off and setting both children into high pitched shrieking.

The Blu-Ray player was a much safer bet, Tony had determined, and while he and Ziva re-acquainted themselves with the conventions of modern cooking, they’d introduced Tali to the art of film.

Like father, like daughter. “What do you mean?” Tony asked, pulling her from her reverie.

“Rafi Aman fully believed that what he was doing was right, ideologically. Most terrorists do, in fact, and they generally prefer to brag about their crimes. Unlike your typical criminal who tries to hide and get away with what they’ve done, a terrorist like Aman likes to have his name attached to what he does. To let everyone know that he was the one responsible. He probably couldn’t wait to tell Gibbs everything.”

“Makes no sense to me,” he said, shrugging. Sure, he understood the general gist of it, but he didn’t really get what caused a man to be so hellbent on killing that he would get people to do his bidding and then boldly brag about his misdeeds. Even worse was the fact that he had the backing of his government, though they had naturally disclaimed him as soon as he’d been caught, for the sake of maintaining some semblance of diplomacy.

He was glad that he didn’t understand it, however, because the last thing he would ever want would be to be in any way alike to the man who’d had such a vendetta against his wife – _fiancée,_ he corrected himself, since they were not officially married yet – that he’d hunted her down for over two years.

“At any rate, he’ll be put away forever,” he added with a smirk. Once the FBI had tripped all over themselves to apologize for their monumental blunder, they were all-too-willing to come back and work with Vance and the rest of NCIS to get the terrorists processed and transported to a maximum-security facility where they would await trial. Of course, the FBI had also wasted no time sweeping in and taking credit for the takedown of the foreign operatives and patting themselves on the back, like McGee hadn’t been the one to do most of the legwork on the entire operation. It would almost be comical, if it wasn’t so damned infuriating.

“Gibbs also says that we can have our jobs back, if we want,” Tony added, remembering the other piece of information that had been passed to him. Previously, their jobs had been up in the air, as they’d had to go through psychiatric evaluations and file a report for their “operation,” though their status – as far as anyone who asked was concerned – was that of full agents, merely taking a well-earned vacation.

Ziva had scoffed at that. If they had not technically been employed by the agency during that time, what did it matter where they’d been? Still, she had agreed to answer their questions, despite being unsure if she really wanted to return to NCIS at all

“If we want,” she echoed, letting Tony in on her thoughts. She hadn’t told him yet about her apprehension toward going back to the job. Although Aman would be tried eventually and almost certainly never released, there would likely be another person out there who would seek to do them harm, and now they had a family to think about.

Tony smiled absently. If Ziva was having second thoughts about returning, he couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. The idea of going back after all this time away did seem strange, and he wasn’t sure how he’d fit in with this new team, or if Gibbs would even have him back on the same team now that the new agents were there and no longer considered probationary. “A part of me misses it a lot, you know?” He said, shrugging as he sat down beside her, brushing Ashina’s hair lightly so as not to wake her. “But a part of me doesn’t miss it all that much. I mean…” he trailed off, furrowing his brow before speaking again. “I never took a lot of time off before, so I never had any time to get used to a life away from NCIS, even a week. And now that I’m not used to it anymore, running down perps, even now that I’m in arguably better shape than before we left, just doesn’t sound as fun as it used to.”

“And we have children to think about now, too,” Ziva added, smiling with pride as Tali stood up, danced along with the song on the movie, and then sat back down on the floor when it was over. Tali was obsessed with Genie from Aladdin, and every time he sang, she _had_ to get up and dance along. Often that also meant that either Tony or Ziva was required to dance with her, but she was content to do _Friend Like Me_ solo this time around.

“Yeah,” was all Tony said, the air hanging heavily on his words. Before, it hadn’t been like this. He came to work because he’d truly enjoyed it, of course, but he’d be lying if he said that part of the appeal wasn’t the people there. Ziva had been his best friend for so long that he couldn’t remember what his life had been like without her there. Now she was his partner in an entirely different – and honestly, better – way, and the thought of her being his work partner again instead of his life partner was somehow less than appealing. Not that she would suddenly stop being his partner in life, of course, it was just… he wasn’t sure if he was up for the risk involved anymore.

Still, he didn’t really feel old enough to retire yet, and he surely had a few more good years in him. Hell, Gibbs had at least a decade on him and he was still chasing after the bad guys, though Tony suspected that part of what kept Gibbs going was the same thing that had kept him coming back all those years – the refusal to simply be a grumpy old lonely man with no real purpose in life.

Maybe it was just time for a change, and maybe when they went back, that would be something he could discuss with Vance.

“We would have to worry about childcare, too,” Ziva added, interrupting his thoughts, and Tony nodded.

“The agency provides that though,” Tony said with a shrug. Not that he wouldn’t explore all of his options, because his children deserved the best, and if the in-house childcare center wasn’t good enough for his babies, he’d put them somewhere else. At least with the NCIS daycare they’d all be close by if both he and Ziva went back to work.

“There’s an intelligence analyst position open,” Tony added when Ziva didn’t respond, and she looked up at that. “I bet if you wanted it, Vance would give it to you. You’re more than qualified for it.”

“I am just not sure if that is what I want to do,” she replied finally, after a long pause. It was weird to think about going back after so long, when they’d initially only intended to be out of a job for a month or so when they’d resigned. From what McGee had said, it turned out to be just a little over a month before he’d been reinstated.

“At the same time,” she continued, getting up and putting Ashina down in the crib they’d put up in the small dining area of her apartment – the only space they really had for her, unfortunately. “I do not know if I wish to be a stay-at-home mother. I enjoy being busy and keeping my mind sharp. Not that being a mother wouldn’t keep me busy, of course, I just… I don’t know how to explain it, Tony.”

“Maybe we could do like a trial run or something,” he suggested, and she perked up at that idea.

“A trial run, yes. We can use the NCIS daycare services for a couple of days and see how we feel about returning to the team and whether it’s truly what we want.” She wasn’t sure that Gibbs would be willing to deal with that, but surely after all they’d been through on his team, he’d be willing to accommodate them for a while until they figured out where they fit.

“I feel like half the reason I went to work on some days was just to spend time with you anyway,” he admitted, and she turned to look at him, shocked at his words.

Tali was still mesmerized by the movie in front of her, but Ziva took a moment to glance at her while she collected her thoughts. “You sure had an odd way of showing it when we were working together.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Yeah, well…” he trailed off, taking his own moment to think before speaking. “It felt safer for me to push you away.”

“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. She remembered all those days of wondering why he could be such a jerk to her sometimes, and she didn’t understand it, especially after all those moments when he’d been so kind and open to her when no one else was around.

“I was afraid of this,” he said, waving his hand absentmindedly.

“This?”

“Us,” he clarified, and her eyes narrowed. “I was afraid that we’d happen and I’d fall for you – hell, I had already fallen for you, long before we ever left DC – but that something would inevitably ruin us. That we would become Gibbs and Jenny somehow. I always saw how miserable he was and I didn’t want that to be me.”

Ziva shook her head at him, not understanding. “But you could have made different choices, Tony. You could have asked me out. For real, and not just for drinks as friends. There were so many opportunities, and if you had ever given me any indication that you were interested in me beyond calling me your partner at work, I might have acted on the way I felt about you.”

“The way you…” he started, then caught himself, letting her continue.

“There was always something between us, right from the beginning. And if you’d asked me out, Tony… I’d have said yes, you know.”

He recalled the time that she’d teased him, telling him to ask out the first woman he saw. It had been a challenge, and he had failed it spectacularly. She must have felt like he didn’t even see her as a woman but just another one of the guys. He cringed just thinking about it, then shook his head, pushing the thought away. “I know that now. Anyway, I’m sorry for being such a dick. I wasn’t exactly good at handling things in a mature, adult way.”

“You still aren’t.” His mouth dropped open in shock at what she’d said, but before he could come up with a retort, she added, “You grumbled like a child for ten minutes because I asked you to pick up your dirty socks and throw them in the washer. You know that Ashina likes to put things in her mouth.”

“Are we doing this again?”

“No,” she said softly, not wanting to start an argument. “It is just that this space is too small for all of us. Ashina is sleeping in the dining area, and Tali has to sleep out here on the sofa at night. We really need to find a place.” She smirked inwardly at the irony of her words. The cabin in the forest had been much smaller than her apartment, but somehow that tiny cabin felt so much more spacious than this.

“None of the houses we’ve looked at have been right though.”

“I know.”

They’d been to about six houses so far, all of which were in their price range and seemed to have the right number of rooms. They were all really nice, some with some pretty amazing features, such as the house with a pool and the other house with a sizeable deck, but none of them felt exactly right. It was almost as though the ghost of the cabin they’d built themselves was haunting them and keeping them from finding peace in the form of a home for their family, but something had to give. They could not continue to live cramped into a one-bedroom apartment like this, but at the same time, they wanted to do it right and not simply rush into a purchase for the sake of it.

All of them just seemed so… _urban,_ Tony realized. One of the houses was right near the freeway, for god’s sake. Even now that they’d returned and started sleeping at Ziva’s apartment full-time, he’d found it difficult to get any real rest since he could hear the constant bustle of a city outside the window. Even the streetlight outside annoyed him. City life used to comfort him, but now it felt oppressive. He’d gone from being a city person to being a country person without even realizing it, and maybe that was the piece of the puzzle that was missing. “Maybe we need to start looking for houses outside the city. Out in the boondocks a bit,” he suggested after mulling it over in his mind.

“Boondocks. I remember that word,” she teased, remembering the case that took them well off what was known as the ‘beaten path.’ It was true that all of the homes they’d looked at since they had come back were in well-inhabited neighborhoods.

“I think part of the reason we’re unhappy with every place we see is based entirely on location. Our neighbors would be too close, or there’s a huge highway practically in our backyard. Let’s find a house out in the middle of nowhere, maybe even on a dirt road.”

Ziva nodded, her smile somewhat incredulous. How had it taken them so long to come to this conclusion? “Yes… you know, we _have_ been looking at this all wrong.”

“I mean it only makes sense. We’ve lived in the country so long that no wonder we feel stifled by this place. Aside from it not being big enough – even though our cabin was smaller. But I think it’s the proximity to everything that’s the real issue, and we need our house to be a retreat.”

“Call the realtor then.”

The real estate agent was all too happy to help them find a home that was a little further out of the city, though she did warn them about the additional commute time that would be required with a home this far out. That, however, was a small price to pay for the much more peaceful nature of living outside the city, and the real estate agent took them to a house situated on an almost obscenely large lot that definitely qualified for what Tony would call boondocks. It had been half a mile since they’d even seen another house.

The house had a massive wrap-around porch and two large picture windows in the front. Forest separated the left and back sides of the house from whatever lay beyond, and large trees dotted the front yard, partially obscuring the house from view. The house was two stories with what appeared to be an attic space and was built in a rustic-looking stone and wood combination that almost made it appear as though it had been built specifically with them and their rainforest cabin in mind.

Ziva looked at Tony, her eyes wide as she took it all in. They hadn’t even gone inside yet, but it was _perfect,_ she could feel it. Tony gave her hand a squeeze, and she could tell that he sensed it too.

Ziva reveled in the way the wooden porch sounded beneath her shoes as she stepped up the stairs and toward the front door, and a breath caught in her throat at the thought that this might be the place where she and Tony lived out their life together. As soon as they stepped into the house, she knew it was the one. It had everything they were looking for, and one great surprise that they hadn’t known about before they’d seen the house was that there was a large pond in the back yard, with a freshwater stream that fed into it, not unlike the spot they’d found in the middle of Brazil.

She began to picture the house with a blend of her furniture and Tony’s, imagining how she would arrange the rooms. She had already started thinking about where his piano would go and how they would decorate for Christmas and Hanukkah by the time they’d gotten to the master bedroom, and the four additional bedrooms on the second floor plus a spare room on the ground floor pretty much sealed the deal. There was even a finished basement.

“It’s perfect, Tony,” she finally said when they’d looked out the window of what would – hopefully soon – be their master bedroom. The view from the bedroom was that of the pond, where ducks waddled around the edge before slowly gliding into the water, and the only sound for miles was the sound of the rippling water of the stream, faint through the closed windows, but still present. She wondered if they’d hear crickets at night while they slept.

Tony couldn’t help but agree. From the moment they’d set foot on this property, he had felt as though the house had been calling to them. This was the house they had been holding out for. The others had been nice, of course, but _this_ was their house. “Let’s make an offer then,” he said, turning toward the real estate agent, and soon they began a discussion about numbers, a phone call made to the seller’s agent, and a waiting game to hear back.

It wasn’t until later that evening, when they’d gotten home and relieved Senior of his babysitting duties, that they heard back from the realtor, who was pleased to inform them that the seller had accepted their offer and that they could close in as little as thirty days.

Ziva’s grin matched Tony’s as they heard the news, and soon he was pulling her into a tight hug. Tali, naturally, wanted to be included, and so she tugged at the hem of Tony’s shirt until he reached down and pulled her up, giving her butterfly kisses and telling her animatedly about their new house.

“Ima house?” Tali asked, and Tony nodded.

“All our house,” he replied, and she giggled at that, though he wasn’t sure she quite understood. Tali would have her own room overlooking the pond, and she would grow up with nature, the way they’d almost dreaded she might when they had lived in the rainforest. She could have nature and civilization at the same time. The perfect blend of civilization and solitude.

Suddenly, the cramped apartment didn’t seem to be such a big deal anymore.

* * *

They hadn’t wanted to be involved in any of the legalities of apprehending Rafi Aman and the few of his men that remained, and so neither of them were even remotely eager to return to NCIS headquarters right away, but now that most of the dust from the investigation was starting to settle a bit, they realized that they would have to go back in and decide what their status as agents would become.

They dressed both of the children and packed a bag full of items for them, something they’d never had to do before. Ashina absolutely hated her car seat, but it was a necessary evil, and she wailed the entire way from the apartment and onto the Navy Yard. “I hope she gets used to that thing soon, because when we move out to the country and we have to drive an hour each way to work…” Tony said, not bothering to finish the statement as the guards at the gate let them through.

“She will,” Ziva assured him, reaching over and squeezing his hand, which had been resting comfortably on his water bottle in the center console. “We have to give them time, Tony. They are young, yes, but it is still a big adjustment, this new world with new rules. There is so much more here than we ever had in the jungle. Loud, beeping toys. Music. Countless voices of strange people. Car horns. Planes. I would be more surprised if she wasn’t experiencing some type of sensory overload.”

“Maybe that’s something we should ask the doctor about,” he said, reminding himself of the upcoming appointment they’d scheduled for both girls. It would be the first time either of them would be checked out by a physician, and both of them would likely be given a battery of vaccinations they hadn’t gotten from being out in the wild. Ziva had learned that her breastmilk had given them some immunity, but she did not want one of them to suddenly develop Polio or whooping cough, especially since there was apparently a new wave of parents who were opposed to vaccinating their children from preventable diseases.

“We should definitely ask the doctor about that,” she agreed, giving his hand another squeeze as he turned the wheel to maneuver them into a parking spot. It had been quite some time since he’d last driven but it didn’t feel all that unnatural. Perhaps it was like riding a bike – it’s something one never really forgets, but still feels awkward at first.

They worked at unbuckling and pulling the kids out of the car silently, using Ashina’s car seat as a carrier, despite her loud protests to its use. Tali didn’t seem to mind her own car seat, waiting patiently for Ziva to lift the huge swinging arm from over her and pull her out of it, setting her down to walk in the door. Today would be their first trial day back at work, and it would be a trial run for Tali and Ashina at the onsite daycare.

Ziva wasn’t sure if she was really ready for it, but they’d be heading up to the bullpen first anyway, as there was apparently some sort of welcome group waiting for them, according to a text McGee had sent her about an hour ago.

She hoped it wasn’t a party, particularly with Ashina in this mood, though her wailing was beginning to subside as she tired herself out with her own cries. She wondered if it would hurt to get her a pacifier for these drives to work.

Tali babbled incoherently as they made their way through the building, hardly noticing the change in scenery around her as she held tightly to her mother’s hand, burying her face under Ziva’s coat sleeve when the guard at the entrance asked for identification. It was a slow trek toward the elevator, but they were early enough that it didn’t matter if Tali slowed them down some.

The elevator was still familiar, even after all this time. In fact, the whole building felt exactly the same as it had in when they’d last left it. There were a few new faces, of course, but everything seemed just as they’d left it, as though the entirety of the world had been waiting specifically for their return. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, but the lobby at NCIS seemed to be a liminal space where time stood still.

The elevator dinged and they stepped off, almost as surely as they’d always done, but this time it was different. _They_ were different, but NCIS seemed the same, and it felt both old and new at the same time. Before they even had the chance to step off the elevator and into the bullpen, a pigtailed head looked up with widened eyes, catching sight of them over the cubicles that delineated the space. “Oh my God!” she shrieked, running toward them and pulling Tony into a tight and – to be completely honest – uncomfortable hug.

“Bab mo Ima,” Tali said suddenly, causing Abby to stiffen and draw back, her jaw dropping as she looked down in surprise.

“You… they…” she looked around, stammering for words. “I…” she trailed off again, and suddenly the words returned. “Oh my _GOD!”_ she shouted, even louder than the first time, and then she was reaching for Ziva and hugging her tightly, too stunned to say much of anything else.

Tony glared at McGee as he set Ashina’s car seat down, rocking it slightly with his foot in an attempt to keep her calm. “You didn’t tell her.”

McGee’s grin was anything but sorry. “I did not tell her.”

“Well, I knew you guys were _coming_ but I didn’t know you had… how? When? I mean…” she paused, biting her lip and moving her hands downward as a way to settle herself. Suddenly, her face broke into both a grin and a sob as she looked from Tony to Ziva and back to Tony again. “I am so happy for you both! How old are they? What are their names? But you were in the jungle, alone, I mean… of course it’s possible, obviously – here’s proof, right – but…” She looked around again, drawing a deep breath and speaking to Ziva. “You really can do _everything,_ can’t you?”

“It would appear so,” she replied, amused by this sudden outburst. McGee was smiling now, but she had a feeling that Tony would find a way to get back at him for this, because the last thing they needed – especially with Ashina and Tali both learning to get used to people – was the over-eager forensic scientist causing a huge scene in this exact manner.

Touching her daughter’s shoulder, Ziva smiled slightly and began to answer Abby’s questions. “This is Tali, and she is about one and a half, and she’s still not quite used to strangers,” she added as Tali buried her face into her mother’s leg when Abby moved to show her some attention. Tali had slowly warmed up to Senior, but it had taken a lot of coaxing, and she still wasn’t too sure about other people. It would take some time to fully socialize her, and they really didn’t want to rush it. McGee had probably not known this, but to have Abby barreling toward them at warp speed in clunky boots was the last thing they needed. The daycare drop-off would be difficult enough.

“Oh, did I startle her?”

“It is fine, Abby,” she said, not wanting to let her annoyance show. After all, they had to get reacquainted with people, too, and it would do no one any good if they were not willing to compromise a little. And since it was unlikely Abby was planning on making a change into a much more subdued version of herself, Tali would have to get used to her eventually. Perhaps they could interact with Abby in small doses. “And this one is Ashina, and she’s almost four months old now.”

“You look…” she said, after looking at both Tony and Ziva for a long moment. “You look happy.”

Tony didn’t hesitate. “We are.”

“I just can’t believe… Timmy said you were coming back to work on a trial or something? And then I was thinking to myself, ‘Why wouldn’t they want to come back? They only _loved_ this job.’ But now like, I totally understand. All the danger and stuff, and–”

“Abs,” Gibbs warned, finally interrupting her rambles, causing her to turn quickly around to see him looming behind her, his expression one of only faint amusement.

“Oh! Right. Time to get to work.” She turned back to Tony and Ziva, who had hardly uttered word throughout the entire exchange. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she said, launching forward and wrapping her arms around Tony again. Tali was still clinging to Ziva’s leg when Abby moved to hug Ziva again, and Abby chose to back away and give Ziva a giddy grin in lieu of another embrace. Ziva smiled back slightly, happy to be given such a warm welcome, but also not entirely enamored of being the center of attention.

As soon as Abby had left and Tony had a chance to put his things down, he picked Ashina’s car seat back up and Ziva followed him wordlessly back to the elevator, where they rode to the level the daycare was on. “Do you think she will be all right?” Ziva asked him softly, running her hands through Tali’s hair as she clung tightly to her mother’s side.

“I’m sure she will eventually,” he said, giving a shrug, but he was far from an expert. This was completely new territory for the both of them, and while they felt like they were excellent parents, introducing their toddler to a bunch of strangers and leaving her behind was probably one of the most anxiety-inducing things they’d had to do since they’d come home.

“I just worry about her,” was all Ziva said, and Tony looked at her sympathetically. He worried about Tali, as well, but he knew that it would only be best for her if she got used to people now instead of later.

Dropping Tali off had proven to be much more of an ordeal than either of them could have imagined, and it was only by sheer luck that either of them were able to escape while she was momentarily distracted so that they could get to work. Ziva felt terrible deceiving her like that, but there didn’t appear to be any other way, and they were very late to work at this point. She hoped Gibbs would understand.

When they got back up to the bullpen, they noted that it had been rearranged to accommodate two additional desks. It was unusual to have such a large team, but Gibbs didn’t want to get rid of his two new hires, and he wasn’t about to let Tony and Ziva go, either. He would find a way to make a six-man team work.

Their first case back was a simple homicide, and they’d found the perpetrator within the week. Interviewing witnesses was a lot more efficient with more people, but crime scenes just felt crowded, with agents practically tripping over one another. More than once, Tony had grown annoyed at the others for merely being in the way, and he lay in bed with Ziva that first night after having been in the field and told her how it felt like the entire rhythm of the team felt off. She’d agreed, but had implored him to give it a little more time, despite having her own doubts about whether or not this was what felt truly right to her at this juncture in her life.

Tali continued to have meltdowns when they dropped her off, and one of the caretakers told Ziva that she was still hanging back on her own and not really mingling with the rest of the kids, some of whom were close to her age. Ziva had asked for advice on how to proceed, but the caretaker had only told her that it would take some time. _Well I already knew that,_ Ziva had thought exasperatedly, but she’d held her tongue. Tali was able to calm down enough to play quietly on her own, but she needed to become more social, and neither Ziva nor Tony knew how to accomplish that.

Ashina appeared to be doing fine, but Ziva hadn’t known how exhausting and time-consuming pumping breast milk would be, and she almost wished that she could just go down to the daycare and feed Ashina in person, but then Tali would probably notice she was there and throw another fit, so Ziva ducked into a conference room three times a day to pump milk and store it in the fridge for the following day instead of going down and feeding Ashina in person. She missed that bonding time, but it was too tricky to get Ashina fed with Tali’s regular tantrums.

It was a Wednesday when they were driving home, nearly three weeks into their trial run, when Ziva finally looked over at Tony and spoke her truth. “I do not think this is working for us, Tony.”

He slowed to a stop at the red light and looked over at her, heaving a sigh of relief. “It’s not. Ever since we’ve been back I just feel like...”

“Like an outsider.”

“Yeah.” He paused, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change. “It’s weird. I thought we’d come back and it would be just like old times. The two of us picking on McGee, Gibbs barking orders at us, flirting over lunch. I didn’t even think it would be that bad, having the newbies around. And they’re good, and I like them, don’t get me wrong, but I just… I just don’t feel like I fit in there anymore.”

“Yes! Like I cannot get into the flow of a scene anymore. And when we cleared that warehouse yesterday, I just felt like I was participating in a dance for which I did not understand the choreography.”

“Are we just out of practice? Should we give it more time?”

“It has been weeks now. How much more time should we give it? You and I are in the best shape of our lives and yet we feel like we’re always two steps behind. Or at least, that is how I feel. And every time I turn a corner, I wonder if this is the day some criminal leaves our daughters without a mother. It takes me off my game.”

Tony cringed. He hated to think about losing Ziva in any way. “It’s a valid fear to have.”

“Yes, I know it is. But I do not know how to separate from it. Before – before, Tony, I had no family to speak of. A few distant aunts, my father before he passed, but that was it. If I died, who was it hurting? Who was I leaving behind?”

“Me,” he said softly, knowing that even before, had she been killed in the line of duty, he’d have been gutted, even if he’d never gotten to the point where he could admit how he felt about her.

She deflated somewhat at the admission. “But I did not know that you felt as you feel. And I also knew that you were aware that it was part of the risks of the job.”

“True, but still, Ziva…”

“I know. But I do not feel that way anymore. And my feelings are now interfering with my work. I know that we gave Gibbs a lot of grief about being together and his rules and all that, but there is a reason for it.”

“Yeah.” They sat in silence for a few moments at that, both of them lost inside their thoughts for the time being. Ashina was asleep soundly in the car seat, the pacifier Ziva had bought her doing its intended job. _If only the solution to Tali’s shyness was that easy,_ she’d thought to herself when she’d given Ashina the pacifier for the first time and she’d taken to it immediately. Finally, Ziva broke the silence, turning in her seat so that she could watch Tony’s reaction as she spoke.

“I have been thinking all day, while we were working on that paperwork. And while we were sitting there, I looked online and found that analyst position still open. I am going to put in my application for it and speak to Director Vance tomorrow. I am sure that I can work from home. I do not know what you will want to do, but this is what I want.”

“Okay,” he replied, reaching for her hand as he glanced into the rearview mirror at Tali, who was also staring out the window as trees and electrical poles whizzed by. Ziva already seemed calmer now that she had made the decision to leave the team, and he was starting to feel better himself.  “And I am just going to take some time off, I think. Resign from NCIS, look around. Maybe I can find something different I can do, or maybe I can go back to school.”

Tali started to babble incoherently, causing Ziva to turn around and give her a funny face. When she laughed, Ziva turned back around with a smile. “We left NCIS nearly three years ago and now we are planning to leave again.”

He glanced at her, noting her smirk. “It’s the only decision that makes any sense for our family.”

 _Our family,_ she thought to herself. It didn’t matter how many times either of them said it. The words always made her feel a warmth she hadn’t known she’d been missing her whole life.

* * *

It had been two months now and their new home was still perfect. With the furniture they’d had at each of their apartments, the house had been fairly well furnished from the start, but they’d gone on a special trip to furnish three rooms in particular – Tali’s room, Ashina’s room, and the downstairs spare room, which they were converting into an office space. Some of the other rooms would wait, though they’d also decided to buy a much larger bed for themselves, putting both Tony’s old bed and the queen bed from Ziva’s apartment in the spare bedrooms.

After their discussion in the car, Tony and Ziva met with Gibbs, their children with them instead of in the daycare center. They explained to him that it just didn’t feel right to them anymore, and they didn’t want to be agents if they couldn’t put their full focus and heart into it, lest they lead anyone to harm. Ziva spoke to Vance next, expressing her desire in taking the analyst position, on the condition that she be allowed to work from home, with secure video calls where necessary and monthly face-to-face meetings. If she was being honest, she’d told him, she just didn’t feel ready to leave her children in the care of strangers, especially with Tali’s reluctance to meet new people and Ashina’s reliance on breast milk. Vance had been surprisingly receptive, as he wanted to keep Ziva and her particular skillset on at the agency, and so she’d filled out the paperwork and brought a company-issue laptop home with an IT person in tow, who had done all the work to ensure that their network connection in their house was secure enough for the level of security the job required.

Tony had informed both Gibbs and Vance that he no longer wanted to work for the agency at all, except as a freelance consultant. He would therefore have a lot more flexibility in his hours, and he would be able to telecommute as well. Perhaps they weren’t quite as successful reintegrating with other members of society as they’d hoped, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t move back into a field position later if they wanted, though Tony really only said that to Abby and McGee to make them feel better about this transition. They would start Monday.

“The woman at the daycare said that there is a playgroup every Sunday morning at the park on the Navy Yard,” Ziva mentioned as she was putting toothpaste onto her brush in preparation for bed. Toothpaste. It was something she hadn’t even realized she’d missed, but somehow having clean teeth made her feel so much better. In fact, everything in her bathroom had been a luxury she had once taken for granted. She began to brush her teeth, listening for Tony’s response.

“We should take the girls then,” he said, toweling his hair dry and slinging the towel over the silver bar behind him. He’d emerged wrapped in that same towel, but now he was completely nude as he padded out of the bathroom, headed toward the chest of drawers to grab some boxers.

“My thoughts exactly,” she said after she finished rinsing her mouth, leaning her head out of the bathroom and admiring him with appreciation. Now that they’d gotten home and he’d had the tools for proper grooming, she could see just how well defined his muscles had become, and while they no longer spent their time fighting in preparation for a battle, they still worked out almost daily, and Tony’s physique often left her breathless.

Just as he reached into the dresser to pull out a pair of underwear, Ziva cleared her throat, grabbing his attention, and she slid her robe off of her shoulders, letting it pool onto the floor. His quest for underwear was forgotten and they stepped toward each other, meeting in the middle and embracing each other passionately. Ziva was wearing a nightgown, a thin-strapped satiny thing, but soon it too was falling to the floor as Tony divested her of it, sliding his hand down her bare back and grabbing her panty-clad ass.

“Mmm,” she groaned with a smirk, wrapping her hands around his neck and leading him toward their new bed. It was late and the crickets were chirping outside, the entire world still except for the pair of lovers now consumed in their desire for each other. Tony fumbled for the switch on his bedside lamp, flicking it off and allowing their room to be illuminated only by the moon, similarly to the way it always had been when they were in the jungle together.

Slowly, Tony reached around and thumbed at the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs and watching as she stepped out of them and pushed him back and onto the bed. He lay back, allowing her to take the lead, his eyes locked on hers as she crawled toward him predatorily.

God, he _loved_ when she looked him like that, like she wanted to devour him whole, and despite having hardly touched her, he was already dying to feel her. “It’s been two weeks now,” she said breathlessly, and a shiver went down his spine at the realization. Two weeks was the time the doctor had told them to continue using condoms until the birth control was fully effective, and he groaned as he pulled her by the neck to kiss her hungrily, his cock throbbing at the mere thought of feeling her without any barriers again.

Straddling him, Ziva rocked her hips against him, grinding her moist center against his achingly hard member. Slowly, she worked her mouth free from his, kissing him gently on the chin as she sat back up, her hands trailing a line down the skin of his chest as she scooted backward, reaching between his legs and taking his cock in her hand, stroking it slowly. “Ziva,” he groaned, his entire body tightening with his arousal, and she smirked at him as she crawled even further down, leaving no doubts as to her intended destination.

She was steadily pumping him, her strokes just enough friction to tease but not enough to get him all the way there, and soon she was leaning forward, her breath hot against the head of his cock. She hovered with her mouth there, breathing heavily against him, and he groaned almost pitifully, his desire for her so great. “Please,” he begged, and she puffed one hot breath as her mouth hovered – just barely – over him, and then she darted her tongue out to lick just the tip of him, causing him to squirm beneath her, his breathing ragged at the way she expertly played the tease. Sensing his eyes on her, she twirled her tongue around in her mouth so that she was running it over her teeth, making sure he was watching when she licked him again, this time tasting the underside of the head of his cock, causing him to cry out his pleasure. “You’re killing me,” he groaned as she tightened her grip around him, and his moans grew even louder when she finally wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and began to move her mouth down his solid length.

Tony hissed at the contact, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. He loved to watch her like this, hand and mouth working in tandem, her eyes giving him sly looks whenever she caused him to lurch forward or grip the bed sheet. “God, you’re so good,” he groaned as he reached to push her hair back behind her ear, gently cradling her head as she worked him into a frenzy with her tongue. She hummed her appreciation around him, the vibrations sending a shiver all the way down his spine, and he felt himself grow even harder, if it was possible.

She alternated between taking him between her lips and licking him from base to tip, her hands and mouth all over him, and he felt himself reaching the finish line much quicker than he’d have liked to. Her mouth and hands felt _amazing,_ but he wanted her to come at least once before he did.  “Ziva,” he warned, his thumb brushing her cheek when she paused. “I don’t wanna come yet.”

Reluctantly, she started to draw away, slowing her strokes and kissing the head of his cock, her lips hovering there just a little longer, her soft kisses against the skin of his cock making him shudder. “I just…” she said, alternating kissing and speaking, “love… giving head… so _much…”_ she finished, causing him to groan again, his head thrown back at the way her words mingled with her lips felt against his painfully hard dick.

“Come here,” he begged, and she wasted no time crawling back up his body and kissing him hungrily, her lips moving roughly against his and their bodies tight against each other. She could feel him hot and hard pressing against her stomach, but he made no move to join their bodies just yet, so she continued to sit astride him and kiss him passionately, her jaw flexing as he tangled his fingers into her hair and whispered her name against her lips whenever they parted for even the briefest of moments.

“Lie back,” he said softly, kissing her gently and turning to help her shift. She’d gone down on him and now he wanted to return the favor. He slowly trailed his fingers down her stomach, his kisses landing on her neck, causing her to lean her head back to give him access, giggling when he hit one particular spot that always seemed to tickle.

Next his mouth was on her breasts, with one hand palming the other. Her nipples were sensitive and they hardened almost immediately, and he bit her roughly, causing her to yelp in surprise before he moved away, kissing down her stomach as he slid his hand down between her legs and into her waiting sex, finding her slick and ready for his touch. “So wet,” he murmured against her skin, his lips a prayer against her torso as he continued to kiss downward, delighting in the way she shivered at his words.

“Touch me,” she begged, and he slowly dragged his fingers between her folds, flicking lightly at her already sensitive clit, causing her to raise her hips toward him almost involuntarily, requesting more friction. He moved his hands downward, sliding first one finger into her, then another, and finally lowered his head down to lick between her legs, his tongue hitting just the right spot to make her curse, her tangled, _“Fuck,”_ a prayer to his ears.

It was her turn to run her fingers through his hair as he devoured her, his expert tongue rolling slowly around her tightly coiled center and working her into a frenzy. He reveled in the way she rocked her hips toward his fingers as he kissed her sex, his lips closing around her clit and sucking slightly. “Fuck, _Tony!”_ she cried, her entire body tensing at his every movement. He resumed his motions, his tongue working her expertly in time with his fingers.

“I want you to come,” he said roughly, speaking against her sensitive bundle of flesh, and she gasped as he crooked his fingers inside her, hitting the spot that drove her crazy. She gasped again as he resumed his ministrations with his tongue, his fingers and his mouth both working in tandem to cause her to lose all control, her toes curling and her entire body feeling as though it might just burst at the seams. He was driving her mad.

“You’re close baby, let it go,” he begged, suckling and licking at her sex, his fingers now roughly fucking her as she rhythmically canted her hips toward him. God, he loved watching her fall apart like this, the way she would turn her head from side to side, closing her eyes and then reopening them, her lips pursed and then sucking in sharp breaths and screaming his name. She was perfect, and he loved everything about her.

“Oh, _Tony,”_ she breathed, her body finally giving in to the waves of pleasure only he could bring her. He stayed with her through it, his movements slowing just slightly to elongate her release, only stilling when she shuddered one final time and lay still, her legs relaxed around him and her chest heaving with her release.

“You good?” he asked, a teasing smirk on his lips. He could still taste her there, her sweet essence the most perfect of flavors, and she nodded, her eyes sliding closed as he slid back up her body, leaning over her and kissing her gently.

“Mmm,” she breathed as she tasted the evidence of her pleasure on his tongue, reveling in the way he shared it with her. There was something so erotic about tasting herself, and as he kissed her gently but thoroughly, she could feel him sliding between her legs, his cock teasing at her sensitive entrance.

“Christ, you’re wet,” he groaned, his hand around the base of his cock as he coated himself in her moisture, rubbing the head of his cock between her legs.

“Well you just made me come, you know,” she teased, causing him to grin. He loved hearing that _he_ was the cause of her coming undone, that he had been the one to bring her to the edge and make her fall, that he was the one to catch her and help her down from her high, every time.

He locked eyes with her as he slid forward, entering her slowly and groaning in the process. “Yeah I did,” he bragged, and she giggled, lifting her hips and allowing him to slide further, groaning when he was finally fully situated inside her.

“Do it again,” she begged, sliding her fingers down his back, scratching him slightly with her nails and causing him to tremble. Slowly, he began to roll his hips around, building up the tension slowly with a sensual rocking motion.

“Challenge accepted,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss her gently, his hand caressing her cheek as he picked up his pace just a little. She hissed at the contact between them, her sensitive clit being rubbed every time he thrust into her. He was moving much more purposefully now, his slow pace practically obliterated as she raised her hips to meet his, groaning each time their connection completed.

“Roll,” she instructed, wanting to be the one to set the pace, and he maneuvered them quickly so that she was now on top, their rhythm hardly interrupted as she sat up, placing her hands on his abdomen and riding him with wild abandon, her breasts bouncing and her hair falling wildly in her face. She blew a strand of it away from her face but it fell back again, and she ignored it, instead choosing to concentrate on the thrust of her hips as she rode Tony expertly.

Tony’s fingers were digging into her hips as he held her steady, his eyes glazed over with lust as she thrust down upon him, his own hips lifting up to meet hers as he chased his release, his respite in this woman. She was riding him at exactly the right angle, and both of them let out loud moans at each slow, hard grind of their bodies against each other. It wouldn’t be long now, and yet he hoped it would last a lifetime; it felt so good.

Lifting her hips slightly, she leaned forward, wanting desperately to feel his lips on hers again. Sensing her intent, he reached up to her neck and yanked her down to him, their mouths crashing together as they practically devoured each other, a loud moan of pleasure swallowed between them, their bodies moving as one toward completion. They were kissing and then pulling apart, panting heavily, and then kissing again, their movements wild as they kept crashing into each other again and again.

 _“Tony,”_ Ziva gasped against his lips, and he thrust his hips hard up and into her, causing her to shout in pleasure. She glanced down at him, noting how his face was knotted in concentration, and she knew he must be close. “Come,” she begged him, wanting him to give in to the pull, to fall apart the way she had fallen.

“You first,” he begged, his hands all over her body – tangled in her hair, digging into her ass, groping her breasts, slapping her thigh – his movements animalistic and primal, his need for her driving him to the edge of insanity.

 _“Tony,”_ she groaned again, her hands gripping him furiously as she concentrated on the way he felt moving within her, the way he stretched her and filled her completely. She shuddered, her body beginning to tighten around him, her skin buzzing with the feeling that she would soon fly again.

Gripping her by the nape of her neck and gazing into her eyes, Tony stilled her for just a moment. “You’re close too?” he asked before thrusting up and into her, hard, causing her to yelp in surprise.

 _“Yes,”_ she hissed, her body reeling from the way he completed her. _“More,”_ she begged, and soon he was using every last bit of strength he possessed to thrust up and into her as hard as he could, dying to bring them both to the brink.

He was grunting with every thrust, his face contorted as he focused on bringing them both there, and she leaned forward, kissing his cheek and nibbling on his ear, whispering dirty words to him. “Fuck me, Tony,” she begged, her voice a low growl in his ear. “Give me that cock, make me scream your name,” she continued, causing him to grunt and roll her back over onto her back again.

“Oh _yes,”_ she cried, her voice rising as he moved even faster, his thrusts coming hard and fast and relentlessly against her. “You know _just_ how I like it, Tony, _please.”_ She was breathless, and her entire body felt as though it had been lit aflame. She glanced up at him, meeting his eye and seeing fire there and she was gone, her body tensing and then trembling as she finally felt herself tightening around him, the waves of pleasure causing her to scream his name against his skin as he gave a few more hard, fast thrusts and grunted his release, his legs twitching as he emptied himself inside her, his body finally tensing and then relaxing as he collapsed on top of her.

“Fuck,” he heaved out, his voice ragged and broken in her ear, and she chuckled, feeling him beginning to soften inside her as they came down from their collective high.

“Fuck is right,” she agreed, her voice also breathless, her arms wrapped tightly around him as they both tried to steady their breathing to some semblance of a normal rhythm. “You are so amazing,” she said to him, giving his ass a slight squeeze.

“All you,” he said back, finally moving just enough so that he wasn’t completely on top of her and therefore crushing her. Soon she was laughing, a long, loud belly laugh that cause him to turn his head and wonder what it was, exactly, that she was laughing at.

“I’m just so… _happy,”_ she said by way of explanation, and he grinned at that, reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. “We finally have everything we want, Tony. Our jobs, our house, our girls…”

“Ahh,” he began, causing her to turn her head to meet his gaze. “There’s one thing I want that I don’t have yet,” he said, and she raised her eyebrows at him, wordlessly urging him to continue. “You as my wife.”

At that she broke out in a grin, her eyes lighting up at his words. “Well then let’s fix that.”

“And…” he began, and she raised her eyebrows again.

“There’s more?”

He looked sheepish, but only slightly. “Maybe a son? I mean, maybe not right now, but like… can we talk about having more children? We aren’t exactly great at this family planning thing but…” he trailed off. He wasn’t like his father – he didn’t need a son to carry on his full name and therefore his legacy, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to have a little boy now, perhaps a carbon copy of himself, but with his mother’s eyes.

“But we just moved in together. Don’t you think we are moving too fast?” she joked, and he let out a happy guffaw at that. When he didn’t answer her, she looked at him earnestly, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. “Let’s get settled first before we start trying again, Tony. I just got back on the pill, and I’m not sure we’re quite ready to have another just yet. But…” she said, making sure he saw her and read her intentions, “I would love to have more children with you.”

“Children? As in more than one?”

She shrugged, leaning forward to kiss him. “Maybe. It is kind of hard to resist you.”

He kissed her back then, cupping her face in his hand and flexing his jaw to deepen the embrace. When they pulled away, he leaned his forehead into hers, gazing into her eyes. “I love you, Ziva.”

She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment and letting his words wash over her before opening them and meeting his gaze again. “I love you too, Tony, and I can’t wait for the rest of my life with you.”

“Well it’s now,” was all he said, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, settling against him with a contented hum of agreement. Their future was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 31 is the last chapter, and it will be posted on Tuesday.


	31. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva (and family) make a return to the jungle for a very special occasion.

**One Year Later**

It had taken them four days to make their way through the forest on horseback before they came to their old shelter again, finding it a little worse for the wear and slightly overgrown, but still standing.

What a convoy they’d been. Tony, Ziva, their two children, McGee, Abby, Gibbs, Tony’s father, and a minister. It had been a long and tiring ride – made much easier with the use of GPS, Tony had remarked – but they were here now, and as Ziva jumped off her horse, she reached for both Tali and her bag, walking slowly to the door and opening it, looking into the space that had been theirs for so long.

She felt Tony’s presence behind her and smiled, leaning into him for comfort as her eyes welled with tears. They’d shared so much of their lives here, and seeing it again after all this time had made her more emotional than she would really care to admit.

Tony was the first to speak, looking at his phone and cataloging the time, a first for the locale, he noted with a smirk. “How long do you need?” He asked Ziva softly, whispering lightly into her ear, the innocence of the question lost in their intimacy with one another.

“About twenty minutes,” she responded, giving him a quick kiss before stepping forward and setting her bag down on the table, opening it up and taking out the dress she’d bought, a light, flowy thing that reminded her of something Padme Amidala might have worn. _Tony would be proud of that reference,_ she thought to herself with a smile as she hung it up, listening as he spoke to the people who’d come with them, informing them that they would start at five-thirty.

“Come, Tali, let us get you dressed,” she murmured, reaching into her bag and pulling out the dress she’d bought her daughter, another light, summery dress, more casual than formal. Before she got Tali changed, however, a run outside to find a suitable place for her to “go potty” was in order. Tali was in the process of learning to use the toilet, but Ziva had been smart enough to bring some of those pull-up underwear because she had a suspicion that the stress of this trip might make it more likely that she’d go back to being diaper-bound for a few days.

She’d suspected correctly, so she brought her back inside the building and quickly stripped the child of the t-shirt and shorts she’d been wearing, switching out her pull-ups in the process, and slid her dress on, smoothing it out. They would get her back on track with regards to toilet training once they got home. _Home,_ she thought to herself. For such a long time, this had been home, and now it wasn’t. How strange it was to return here like this.

Ziva combed through her daughter’s hair with her fingers before braiding first one small portion on the right side, then a small portion on the left, before bringing them together with a hair tie and letting the rest of her hair flow in curls naturally behind her. “Go and find Abba,” she instructed, and the girl ran quickly out of the house, her hair blowing freely behind her as she padded barefoot out the door.

Tony was back in a second, bringing Ashina with him, and they essentially traded off children. Ashina was walking now, of course, but she also needed a diaper change and a dress change, and soon she was catching Tony’s attention and handing Ashina over, smiling as she watched Tali gabbing up a storm with Senior, her favorite person in the world.

What a difference a year had made. Tali had been so reluctant to meet with other people, but after a lot of time and patience, she was just as social as anyone else, running around the place chattering with anyone who would listen. She peered out the door with a smile on her face and her tears welled up again, threatening to run down her cheek. 

It was her turn now, and she pulled the door shut behind her, taking off her own clothing and sliding into the dress, leaving her own hair down and flowing long behind her. The gown was an off-white, nearly cream color, and it accented her skin beautifully. She adjusted the straps, checking her reflection in a small mirror she’d brought with her, satisfied that she looked the way she wanted to.

After roughly two years living in the wilderness, living barefoot off the land, the last thing Ziva had wanted for her wedding was to wear some fluffy, corseted thing with constricting shoes. Coming here for the wedding had almost seemed like a dream, but they’d managed to make it happen, and with very little difficulty, surprisingly. The cost, however, was another thing entirely, but most people splurged on their weddings, so why should they be any different? They just spent the vast majority of their budget on transportation for their closest friends and family instead of on a venue and a gown.   

“Tony?” she called, peeking her head out the door, getting his attention. “I am ready, if you are,” she said, and he gathered everyone, arranging their friends on either side of the doorway, creating a small aisleway for her. He held tightly to Tali’s hand as he walked her up the “aisle,” turning to give Ashina a kiss as she squirmed in her grandfather’s arms. Ashina was one who loved to run around, and she wasn’t terribly enamored of being confined. She hated every version of car seat she’d ever ridden in, and she never hesitated to make her displeasure known, but Senior had become somewhat of an expert at keeping her occupied.

Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, playing a soft classical track that was barely audible over the myriad sounds of the jungle, and Ziva took that as her cue to open the door and step out and toward him.

It looked different now. Not just the way that the trees and the grass had started to take back the building and make it a part of the land again, but just the sight of so many people waiting for her. Nine people – a really small group, if they were being honest –seemed like too many, even if two of them were their young children who’d once lived here with them. They’d contemplated asking the new agents to come along, but they still really didn’t know them well enough for this intimate affair. They would be invited to the reception party that would take place after they arrived back in DC, which was a slightly larger gathering, but still small in comparison to most wedding parties. Ziva would get to wear this dress a second time, as she didn’t want to buy a regular wedding gown, and despite knowing that this one would get dirty from the jungle, she had no intention of doing anything about it. “Let it be dirty, Tony, that is how we lived,” she’d said.

He hadn’t argued.

Now they all stood together, waiting patiently for her to walk toward Tony, and she smiled radiantly at him as she stepped out of the house, her bare feet leading her toward the man she’d already had a lifetime of wonderful memories with just in this very spot.

Her gown was indeed getting dirty as it flowed behind her on the ground but she didn’t care. The earth was a part of her now, a part of all of them, and it was only fitting that their wedding day include it.

She reached for Tony’s hand when she came to stand beside him, and he took it eagerly, pulling her toward him and kissing her passionately on the lips, tradition be damned. He, too, cared little for anything traditional, wanting their day to be _their_ day. The minister could chide them all he wanted – and he was doing quite a job of it, despite neither he nor Ziva paying him any mind – but they’d do what they wanted, and marry on their own terms.

 _Besides_ , Tony thought as he pulled away, giving Ziva one more small kiss for good measure, _they had been married now for years. This was only a formality._

“Are you done?” The minister asked, and Ziva smirked, not sorry in the least. Tony began to chuckle, and soon the entire group – minus the minister – was laughing heartily.

When everyone seemed to calm down, amused smiles the only trace of their laughing fits remaining, Tony was the first to speak. “Let’s just skip the pleasantries, if you don’t mind. We’ve already exchanged vows, in this very place. Can we just get to that part again? And then do the rings? I just wanna kiss my wife some more.”

 _“Tony,”_ Ziva warned, not hiding her amusement for a second.

“Just pronounce us husband and wife when I say, all right? We’ve got this.” He caught Ziva’s eye and winked, and she smiled, winking back and squeezing his hand. “Some time ago – who knows how long ago, really, I held you under the stars right here in this very spot, thanking whatever god existed that you were there with me, and that we had each other. You told me that you wanted to be my wife, and from that point on, I knew you were. I didn’t need a ceremony or a piece of paper, because I’d already promised long before then that I would do anything in my power to make you happy. Today I’m just restating that promise, to love you until the end of my days.”

Abby whispered, “Aww,” then, earning a slight eye roll and a nudge from McGee, who did so just to cover up the fact that tears were welling up in his eyes. Finding Tony and Ziva again had been a miracle in itself, but the two of them finding each other had been an even bigger one.

“Tony, I can’t say when it was that I started loving you, or what day exactly that I promised I always would. I remember that night, too. It was before Tali was born, and I was feeling so…” she paused, tilting her head slightly as she gazed into his eyes, willing herself to get through what she wanted to say without becoming a blubbering mess. “So… _full._ Of love, of life… of everything I had ever wanted. Running away so we could escape Widow had been one adventure after another, but there was no one else I could have ever gone on that adventure with. And now, when I think about marriage, and parenthood, and everything else we have for the rest of our lives, I just want to start our next big adventure together.” She finished with a slight shrug, squeezing his hands as she smiled at him, finally allowing the tears that had welled up to fall.

Tony lifted their hands between them, unwilling to disconnect for even a second as he brushed her tear from her face, lovingly caressing her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, acting – for all he was concerned – as though she was the only person there. Having a wedding was merely a formality, as he’d said, and their vows to love and cherish each other were between them, and no one else.

“I love _you,”_ she echoed, squeezing his hands as she lowered them again, her thumb absently brushing the back of his hand.

Tony looked at the minister, giving him a pointed look. His face bore the same expression he’d worn when he had asked them if they were done. “The… rings?” The minister asked, unsure if he was taking this ceremony where the groom wanted it to go. Tony nodded slightly, giving the minister a slight smirk of approval, and Ziva glowed with the smile that spread across her face at his antics.

McGee had been holding the rings and he stepped forward, handing them over to the minister. The minister handed Ziva’s smaller ring to Tony, asking him to repeat after him. Tony did so, his gaze never leaving Ziva’s as he slid the ring onto her finger.

“Now Ziva,” the minister began, but Tony interrupted him.

“If I may interrupt again…” Tony said, and the minister rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t his wedding, and nothing about this ceremony was conventional, so there was no reason for him to press for tradition _now._

“By all means,” the minister said, waving his hand around like he simply didn’t care anymore, and everyone laughed. Whether or not this was a typical wedding ceremony, Ziva knew that she would never forget this moment and the joyful laughter and happiness that had brought their entire family together.

Tony reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Tied to a white satin string was a wooden band – the same wooden band that he’d made for Ziva when he’d originally proposed in this very spot. “I had it stained – protected,” he clarified, “and I wanted to give you this as a symbol of our resilience. We survived, thrived, and adapted to life out here, and even though I couldn’t go to a jewelry store and buy you a ring, I still gave you one, and I wanted you to keep this with you, as a reminder that our love will always find a way.”

“Tony,” she breathed, then leaned forward just enough to allow him to put the string around her neck. “He loves me so much I get _two_ rings,” she said, turning to her audience, and again, everyone laughed.

Once everyone had settled down again, Tony turned back to the minister. “Continue,” he instructed, and this time, Ziva was the one who laughed, her sheer adoration for the man before her written all over her face.

Ziva took Tony’s ring from the minister and repeated the same vow that Tony had said before, sliding the ring onto his hand. “Do you have something, too?” the minister asked her, and she started to shake her head, but changed her mind.

“Only this,” she said, and she surged forward, her arms flung around Tony’s neck as she kissed him hungrily, slowly sliding her arms back until her hands were touching his cheeks, cradling his face gently in hers when she finally pulled away, gazing into his eyes and whispering, “I love you,” loud enough only for him to hear.

Abby pressed her hand to her chest, her eyes welling over with tears, but she kept her squeals to herself. _I promised,_ she reminded herself.

“Well now, by the power… what little power I have left, I suppose,” the minister said, shaking his head, “vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” They looked at him expectantly, like he was forgetting something. “Well, kiss her again then,” he instructed, and everyone began to laugh again as they surged toward each other, kissing for the first time as husband and wife.

The first _official_ time, anyway.

“Now, my part is basically done, but I know that you are not having an immediate reception, and I know that someone here wanted to say a few things before we disperse, so… if you would, please,” the minister said, motioning to the crowd, and McGee stepped forward.

“I know you said you didn’t want any presents, and… well, uh… we couldn’t like, not do that for you. So we all got together… everyone here, and a couple others and… here,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his shirt and pulling out a folded envelope, handing it to Tony.

Tony took it, and both Tony and Ziva looked at him, confused, as they opened up the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper inside, unfolding it.

“Property deed,” Ziva read aloud from the top, stopping there. “You didn’t,” she said, her jaw dropping as she looked around. If she was reading this document correctly, and she couldn’t be sure since it was steeped in legal jargon, then it appeared that their friends had bought them back their first house.

“We had the land surveyed not long after you got back. You officially own this land – about an acre of it – and everything on it,” McGee said.

“It took a _hell_ of a lot of negotiating,” Gibbs added, beaming at the couple’s shocked expressions.

“Officially, none of the rainforest is up for sale, but we managed to get it marked as a nature reserve, so it has the added bonus of never being available for deforestation. You just have to put up some fences and ‘No hunting’ or ‘Private Property’ signs, but you can come back out here anytime you like.”

“Maybe for a honeymoon,” Abby suggested with a wink.

“I think they’ve already taken care of that part,” Tony’s father cut in, and everyone laughed again, much to Ziva’s dismay. It wasn’t like any of their friends or family could say that _they’d_ waited until marriage, either, but they sure did enjoy having fun at each other’s expense.

“Was it…” she began to ask, then closed her mouth, thinking that asking the question was against her better judgement. It would be rude to ask how expensive it had been.

“It was less expensive than you’d think,” McGee replied, answering the question she hadn’t asked. “And even if it had been expensive, you’re both worth it, you know. We’re all so glad that you’re back, and that you’re both so happy. It could have ended much differently.”

“Well yeah, if you guys hadn’t taken so long to get here…” Tony teased, and Ziva pinched his side, as if to tell him to behave. Tony hadn’t realized how much he’d missed teasing McGee while they’d been gone, but now that they were back, he’d made it his duty to make up for lost time as much as possible, especially since he was no longer working alongside him and he had fewer opportunities to bust his chops.

Ziva looked over at the cabin, which was still in really good shape even after all this time. They could fix it up some, if they wanted, now that they could come back whenever they desired. Perhaps they could put actual shingles on the roof, or bring in a wood-burning stove to replace the handmade one that still sat in the corner of the cabin over their small fire pit. If they wanted to, they could even bring some actual furniture out here, though she held a certain fondness for the handmade variety that they’d used for so long. “Thank you,” Ziva finally said, excited at the prospect of being able to travel back out here at any time. She hadn’t really put much thought to it, but there were times when she actually missed this little place.

“Let’s try to come out here once a year,” Tony said, turning to speak in her ear so that no one else could hear her. “Let’s just celebrate our anniversary out here. Dad can watch the kids for a few days.”

She turned so that she could speak in his ear, nuzzling into his neck and giving him a couple of warm kisses in the process. “I like that,” she murmured softly, causing him to shiver against her. There might be times when they would want to bring the children, of course, but they didn’t have to.

They were distracted by Senior. He had set Ashina down so she could run around again and then walked away from the group to reach into his pack that had been slung over the back of the horse he’d ridden and pulled out a bottle of champagne, popping the cork. “Can’t have a wedding without a toast,” he supplied, and Tony really couldn’t argue with that. He’d only brought plastic wine glasses, though, as he hadn’t been sure how well glass would travel, but the champagne wouldn’t know the difference.

Once all of the drinks were poured, everyone waited expectantly for Senior to speak, but he looked around, perplexed, saying, “I didn’t prepare anything. I just brought the booze.” Tony shook his head, rolling his eyes. _Typical._

“Well I have something to say, and I shall be brief,” Ziva supplied, holding her glass in front of her. “A while back – what seems like such a long time ago – I felt as though I didn’t have any family at all. My father had passed, leaving me behind as the only one remaining, but now I have one of my own. And so I would like to propose a toast,” she raised her glass, looking around at everyone in attendance, “to family.”

“To family,” everyone echoed, and they all took their drink of champagne. Having taken a much smaller sip than the others, Ziva finished first, and she glanced at Tony first, his nod in her direction almost imperceptible.

“There is one more thing,” she added, pausing as a breeze blew her hair into her face and then back again. Tony wrapped his arm around her waist, taking her glass of partially-drunk champagne. “Tony and I have decided that it is time to… expand our family. And I – _we –_ are pleased to announce that we are expecting.”

“Again!?” Both Tony and Ziva drew back from Abby’s high-pitched shriek.

“Well, to be fair,” Tony started, running his hand absently over Ziva’s stomach, “this time we waited a bit first.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “What, like a week?”

“It has been over a year,” Ziva said, trying not to become annoyed. This was good news, after all, and there was no need for such snippiness.

Tony rolled his eyes, though he did so with a smile on his face. “Laugh it up all you want,” he said, giving Ziva a squeeze, “but we’re happy.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like _that,”_ she corrected hastily, but McGee tapped her lightly on the shoulder and she stopped talking, realizing that she was making it worse with every word she spoke. Perhaps one day she would remember that she didn’t always have to respond to everything

“Congratulations,” McGee said, both adding his well wishes and correcting Abby in one simple word. Beside him, Abby nodded, content to leave it there.

“A grandson, I hope?” Tony’s dad piped up, his grin hopeful as he looked over at the couple.

Tony shook his head with a sigh. “It’s not like we can actually control that, dad.” He was, unfortunately, the last in the line of DiNozzos, so of course he would like to have at least one son, but he wasn’t going to worry about that since it wasn’t something he or Ziva could have any control over. It was just nice to have been able to plan and decide that they wanted to try for another child, and he’d been thrilled when Ziva had told him that she was pregnant again.

Truthfully, Ziva really believed that it would be a boy this time, and her intuition had been right with both Tali and Ashina. She and Tony had decided that they may have just one more after this one, and then their family would be complete. “Should we tell him that you have no plans to give your son the family name?” she asked him quietly enough that only he could hear her.

Tony shook his head with a slight smirk. “No, this is a happy occasion. Let’s not ruin that. We can wait until we at least know whether we’re having a boy or not.”

“We are,” she said knowingly, patting her stomach lightly and leaning closer to him, their faces almost touching as they talked only to each other. Behind them, Ziva could hear the sounds of her father-in-law playing peek-a-boo with Ashina and Gibbs letting Tali wade in the stream while Abby and McGee looked on.

He kissed her before speaking again, a short, sweet touch of lips before parting. “You’re always so sure you know everything.”

She leaned into him, nuzzling his neck with her own lips before lifting her head up to speak softly in his ear. “That, my dear husband, is because I usually do,” she replied, kissing his earlobe before drawing away, lifting her hand to run it through his windswept hair.

“Ima, come play!” came the sound of Tali’s voice from behind them, breaking them from their intimate moment, and Ziva gave her husband a slight squeeze at the waist as she turned and followed her daughter to the stream, hiking up her dress and wading into the water along with her. Not to be outdone, Ashina noticed her sister playing and tried to squirm away from Senior, and so Tony stepped over and helped her down the ground, letting her toddle slowly to the edge of the stream so she could also play.

“Looka, here ‘Shina,” Tali said, demonstrating to her sister how to navigate from the bank into the water, and soon Ashina was taking slow, tentative steps into the water with her sister and then clapping at her own progress.

“Abba,” Ashina called, one of her few words, and Tony crouched down beside her, his pant legs rolled up so he could step into the stream with his wife and children. Ziva was the next to crouch down, doing her best to keep her dress from getting completely drenched in the water, and the rest of their family watched as the family played, fascinated – even after all this time – at how lucky Tony and Ziva had been to come together in the way they had.

Senior dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, not even the slightest bit ashamed that he’d been moved to tears. He had grandchildren. _Grandchildren._ It was still hard to believe sometimes.

Tony, Ziva, Tali, and Ashina continued to play in the water, all four of them doing their best to keep from getting _too_ wet, though Ziva feared that it was unlikely they’d remain dry. From the riverbank, McGee pulled out the camera he’d been tasked with using to document their day, and snapped several candid photos of the family, certain that _these_ were the memories they would cherish for a lifetime to come.

“Love you, Ima,” Tali said suddenly, and McGee felt his heart almost burst at the sudden sweetness of this precious little girl, who had stepped forward to wrap her arms around her mother, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Love you, Abba,” she said after she was done hugging her mother, turning to Tony and repeating the gesture.

“I love you, too, baby,” he said, gathering her in his arms and standing back up, and Ziva scooped up Ashina into hers, slowly and carefully wading her way back out of the stream.

Once they emerged, Ziva set her dress down, hardly caring now that it was mostly wet and would probably be ruined – not that she would ever wear it again after the reception, anyway – and linked her hand with Tony’s, turning and gazing into his eyes as she brushed her daughter’s wet curls from her face. “We made it,” she said softly to him, and he didn’t need to ask her what she’d meant.

They’d made it through everything they had endured together. They’d made it through a harrowing escape from terrorists who would have stopped at nothing to eliminate them. They’d made it through the battle of a lifetime with their lives – and the lives of their children. They’d made it together.

Squeezing her hand tightly as he gazed into her eyes, he was oblivious of the camera lens on them, the four of them as he leaned toward her, kissing her gently and whispering, “I love you, Ziva,” before kissing her even more thoroughly, despite their daughters preventing them from getting very much closer.

“And I love you, Tony,” she replied before kissing him back, and despite their friends and family’s close proximity, they remained wrapped up in each other as they shared another perfect moment together under the jungle sky, content in this moment and everything that the jungle had given them.

The trees began to dance with a breeze and the jungle thanked them back, it seemed, for sharing their lives with it, taking Ziva’s laugh of delight as a token of its gratitude as it carried the sound along the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! I want to thank all of you who have read this story and given me kind words on any of the places I've shared it - Fanfiction, Ao3, Twitter, or Tumblr. Your support has meant so much to me and I'm beyond happy that I got to share it with you. I'll be back soon with something new.
> 
> Until then, I just want you to know that yes, the child Ziva's pregnant with is indeed going to be a boy, and they're going to have not one but two more children before they're finally done. I'll leave the "how" up to your imagination. Good thing they bought that huge house! 
> 
> Thank you all and please come back for the next one.


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